The Shadow At My Window
by ZombeeCat
Summary: Destiel AU inspired by Peter Pan. Dean is 12 years old the first time he sees the shadow.
1. Chapter 1

Dean Winchester was 12 years old the first time he sees the shadow.

It's his fourth night in his new home with his mom, dad, and baby brother, Sam. Their dad had abruptly uprooted them to move out into the middle of No-wheres-ville, Kansas. If his parents had a reason, they weren't telling their son about it. Apparently, Dean was just expected to shrug off childhood friends, the only school he'd ever gone to and the home he grew up in.. all to end up at Auntie 'Ems. He spitefully wished for a tornado to come blow them away.

Dean throws down a box of comics, which just knocks over another heavier box that was balanced precariously on a table. A wail starts from below and he rolls his eyes.

"Dean! You woke Sam! Knock off your pouting and come down to dinner!" his dad barks up the stairs at him.

His mother had said he could pick out his room, probably out of guilt. Feeling withdrawn and sulky, he immediately chose the 3rd floor bedroom. It left him by himself with his parents on the second floor with Sam. Kitchen, Dining Room, and Living Room on the bottom floor.

Petulantly, Dean decides to take his time getting to dinner. He evaluates the walls, mentally planning out what posters he wants to hang. He figured he'd move the dresser, with the Sega and TV on top, so it was facing the end of his bed. The door would be to the right of his bed and the huge almost floor to ceiling window to his left. Dean walks across the room to the simple wooden window bench seat. He tugs at the lip and opens it to reveal an empty compartment. Closing it, he steps up on it to reach the latch. Feet back on the floor, he pulls at the two panes of glass divided into squares by a thick oak frame. They swing inward and he can't help being a little impressed by the view.

Their backyard at the moment is just a large expanse of uncut grass that hits a line of trees. From here, it seems to be the edge of woods that go on for as far as he can see. The tops of trees were quiet and oddly soothing out in the black night. Without the light pollution from city lights he'd become accustomed to, the stars pop out everywhere. More than he'd ever seen. He idly watched a breeze ruffle and shake leaves on trembling branches, for a moment forgetting all his self-righteous anger.

"Dean! Now!"

"Yeah! Alright!" He yelled back and there went the calm.

Turning away, he briskly walked towards the door, knowing despite his anger that he didn't want his dad to come get him.

He reached for the handle, but paused when a shadow darkens the door in front of him, covering where his hand is held out. Gasping, he quickly turns back to the open window.

But there was nothing but moonlight flooding in. He cautiously takes a few steps back towards it.

"Dean!"

Dammit. He hesitates only a second longer, before finally shaking his head and yanking open the door to run down the stairs.

* * *

Time passes and the Winchesters settle in. Dean has a birthday that feels a little empty without his friends but they sing the song and he blows out candles on a cake anyway. Sam starts teething and he's very glad he chose to be a whole floor away from the constant melt-downs. And though she never said anything, he could tell his mom had taken the move hard at first as well.. but she starts to perk up after a while too. He can hear her singing downstairs and it makes him smile. She bakes pies in the afternoons every once and a while, half-humming a Beatles song when he comes in from school. He even makes a few tentative friendships with kids from his new school.

One day after school, while he's trying to make his math homework penetrate his brain, his father comes in from work with an unfamiliar man in tow.

"Dean, come here. I want you to meet someone."

He gets up from the kitchen table and walks over to them.

"This is your Uncle Bobby." He gestures to an older guy with a brown beard and mustache combo that creeps up the sides of his jaw. He's wearing an old trucker hat, open flannel over a grey shirt, jeans and maybe an extra twenty pounds around his middle.

Dean frowns, knowing he didn't have an Uncle Bobby but stuck out his hand like he knows his dad was waiting for him to do.

"You got your mama's looks, boy. Thank the Lord." Bobby smiles, shaking his hand firmly.

When he just stares his dad says, "Dean, what do you say?"

"Uh, nice to meet 'cha."

Feeling uncomfortable and not knowing what else he was supposed to say to this guy he asks, "Um, may I be excused?"

"Dean!"

"Aw, let the boy go." Bobby waves him off, smacking his dad's arm with the back of his hand.

His dad gives him a look but just says, "Alright, go. I'll get you a beer, Bobby."

"I wouldn't turn one down."

Dean turns to run up the stairs but awkwardly waves to Bobby on his way who returns it with an upturning of his mustache.

As the two men move towards the kitchen, Dean remembers he forgot his math book. He hesitates, and when he hears them begin talking, sits down to wait on the stairs. Also, Deans a little curious how the hell his dad knows this guy.

"How's Ellen holdin' up?" He hears the clink of a beer bottle cap hitting the sink.

"Well she's, ya know John.. it'll take time."

His dad sighs deeply.

"It hit her hard but she's a tough woman. And she has Jo."

"They settling in okay?"

Their voices descend as they walk out into the backyard. "Yeah, they're up at a place in my neck of the.."

When the coast is clear, Dean walks out to grab his book as quickly as possible and doesn't look back.

That night, he's sitting at the edge of his bed, engrossed in mashing buttons on his Sega controller and gritting his teeth as Sonic navigates a loop de loop.. when he abruptly falls of a cliff and dies.

"Dammit!"

He throws the control across the room and closes his eyes to calm down but doesn't miss a small noise that sounds like a laugh. Dean turns just quick enough to see the long shadow of a figure disappear from the outside the window.

He yells out, frozen to the spot.

Seconds later, his dad storms into the room, searching the corners.

"What?! What is it?"

Dean points at the window. "Somebody was out there!"

He gets up and follows his dad who looks determined and a little scary. Poking his head out the window, he turns his head up, to the sides, then finally down.

Standing behind him, Dean sees a wicked-looking blade in his hand before he slips it out of sight.

"There's nothing out there. Jesus, Dean, you scared the hell outta me."

"No I saw.. something. Freaking someone!"

"Alright, that's enough. Turn off the videogame and got to bed."

"Dad! I know-"

"Now, Dean! Don't you think you're a little old for this kinda stuff?"

The injustice of not being believed is immediately covered with the sting of his dad's censure. He clenches his jaw and swallows the rest of whatever he was going to say.

Sighing, his dad ruffles his hair but Dean just shakes it off, jerking his head to the side.

"Night, Son. Get some sleep."

His dad waits.

"Yes, sir." He bites out coldly.

Frowning, his dad finally leaves him. Dean stands there balling his fists for a whole minute before stomping to the open window. He closes it tight and gets up on the windowseat to latch it. Flopping down on his bed, he's too embarrassed and angry over his dad's implication that he had a little kid freakout to worry about whatever made him cry out earlier.

It's several months before the memory fades enough for him to be comfortable leaving the window open again.

* * *

One September day, when the stifling heat is descending into sweet breezes of Autumn, Dean cracks the window. A few days later and he's sleeping with moonlight flooding in once more.

It's a Friday and he's pretty sure there's some of his mom's apple pie left in the fridge. He tosses his Batman comic at the end of the bed and goes in search. He's almost to the bottom when he grips the banister to stop his momentum on the third to last step.

His dad has his mom close and they're swaying back and forth in the kitchen. It's rare to get a glimpse of this softer side of John Winchester. He always seemed so unapproachable. Hard and strict to his mother's softness. John was ex-military and you could see it from his rigid posture to how he uniformly cuts his eggs to the no nonsense way he demands Dean keep his room. Dean's made his own bed since he was 5, every morning.

Seeing his parents like this.. it's nice. There's no music but his dad is humming low. Smiling, despite the loss of his chance for pie, Dean quietly goes back up to his room.

Just as he opens his bedroom door, something moves across his vision before he can look up. He freezes. Staring at the window, he squeezes the doorknob until his hand is numb. Glancing at the stairs, he sucks in a breath and decides to man up.

Dean strides to the window without hesitation until his shins stop at the wooden bench. Nothing moves. He makes himself climb up onto the wide frame edge and holding tight, ducks his head out to peer outside into the night. Same as always. Still trees. Insects chirping. Plastic baby toys and his bike left on its side abandoned in the backyard. There's a noise to his right that draws his attention. Shifting his foot and tightening his deathgrip, he leans forward to try and see past the darkness along the wall of his house. He stares.. and stares.. almost seeing something at the corner over where the wall turns to the next side of the house. He focuses, squinting his eyes… is that… can't be… an arm?

Then it moves.

Dean jerks his head back so fast; he knocks it hard on the window frame behind him.

Then with an awful drop in his stomach like you get when you miss a step.. he's falling.

* * *

**Author's Note: Hello darlings! This is my first attempt at a slower burn. It's inspired by Peter Pan. In no way will this be a shot for shot version of that story but aspects of it will be popping up from time to time. Let me know you love me and are reading! Explicit for later chapters because doesn't it always lead to gay love? The best things do. (o:`,**


	2. Chapter 2

There's a sound like a rush of feathers.. it reminds him of an old barn owl he once saw..

Dean wakes up with a violent start, gasping. He pats his chest and head, feeling for injuries until he realizes he's.. fine. His neck isn't snapped. His legs and back aren't broken. Confused, he looks around to see he's also in bed, lying on top of the covers. What the actual hell?

He turns to frown at the window that's almost closed with only a few inches of moonlight peeking through.

He. Did. Not. Dream that shit. But he would have been dead or at least crippled from a 3rd story fall. Getting up, he walks slowly to the window. Opening just one of them, he sits down on the bench and rests his elbows on the sill. Dean rubs his eyes before closing them and tries to remember.

He banged his head...

Touching the back of his skull, he winces when he finds a sore spot. Then he shivers at the feeling of going over the side. He was plunging downward and must have blacked out or fainted. But.. there's a niggling memory just at the edge of his graying recollection. He remembers blue. An unnatural, bright as hell blue but he doesn't know why. Then there's nothing.

Well he amends, he does recall one other thing. Right before he fell.. he saw an arm. Impossibly high up and crazy but he'd seen it.

He stays there quietly until his head is nodding and finally pushes off the windowseat. He feels a little ridiculous and would be ready to think he dreamed the whole impossible thing, if it wasn't for his throbbing head.

Staring out into the night, Dean whispers, "Thanks."

He walks back to his bed but leaves the window open.

* * *

Since that night, Dean doesn't worry about his shadow so much anymore. Sometimes he wakes up with the hanging feeling that someone's just out of his sights but he doesn't worry about it as he did. He lets himself fall back asleep, knowing nothing will be there if he bothers to get up.

At school, he's distracted, drawing pictures of owls and gargoyles with blue pens and scrunching his eyes at it like he's trying to figure out a puzzle. He starts to leave things for his mystery savior on the window ledge at night. Apples, Kit Kats, Cheetos.. nothing is ever touched. Once he thought it took some blueberry pie he left out but it turned out his mom had cleaned it up thinking he'd forgotten it. Maybe it didn't eat. Maybe it wasn't real. Maybe he was a dumbass.

One Saturday, when his mom is driving him and Sammy back from a trip to the mall, they stop at McDonald's. She asks what he wants and he gives his standard Double Cheeseburger with Fries and a Coke. Right as she's about to drive off, he yells, "Wait!" The car rocks with her mashing the brake. "Can I have two cheeseburgers? I want one for later."

She gives him a look over her shoulder.

"C'mon. Please, mom?"

"Alright, honey. But you're eating twice as many green beans tomorrow," she says, smiling sweetly. Groaning dramatically, he sits back in his seat and flicks Sam's hanging baby toy so it moos.

A few hours later, everyone's in bed and the house is quiet. Dean unwraps the burger, still warm from when he nuked it in the microwave fifteen minutes ago, and places it dead center of the window sill. Walking backwards, he gets into bed and after a while of staring at the ceiling, falls asleep.

When the sun comes up and annoying birds start chirping, Dean opens his eyes. He blinks and yawns until he remembers and glances at the window. Bouncing out of bed, he scrambles to the sill and is shocked and thrilled to see.. its gone! After a second, he frowns, ducking his head out the window to check if maybe it fell or something. Rationally, he allows that a bird could have taken it or.. where was the wrapper? How will he know if it was actually taken? He didn't know what he was expecting but it felt less fulfilling that he thought.

His mom shouts up at him that breakfast is ready. He throws on jeans and a tshirt, barely paying attention to what he's doing. When he grabs his watch off the nightstand, he freezes when he sees something drop on the floor. He bends to pick it up. There next to his bed is the McDonald's wrapper, perfectly folded into a neat square.

* * *

At school that week, Dean couldn't concentrate if you paid him in pie. It's real. It has to be. It was in his room, standing over him. That thought blows his mind, as well as makes him uneasy. What should he do now? It saved him and took his offering.. should he keep trying to make contact? This was crazy.

"Wow, creepy bat-guy doodles. Are you hitting your teenage emo phase?" Charlie says from over his shoulder before class starts.

"Huh?" He looks back to her smiling face. She gestures at the paper he'd been idly drawing on while they waited for class to start.

"Oh." Dean quickly tucks the paper away. "Nah, just bored."

"Well, if you're going for Batman try less feathers, more cape and nifty utility belt."

He frowns. He hadn't drawn any feathers.. had he? But Charlie's already moved on to bickering with some girl about the virtues of original Star Trek vs Next Generation. The bell rings.

That evening, he's chasing Sam around the house as he squeals in delight. Making exaggerated growling noises, Sam turns and pretends to be the monster this time. Dean puts on his best falsetto and fake screams as the chubby-legged toddler stomps heavily towards him.

When Mary comes to scoop him up for a bath, Sam sniffles and is very close to having a full on melt down.

"C'mon baby, bath time. All good little monsters have to get clean." His mom says as he squirms in her arms.

"No! Mon-ter Dean! Mon-ter Sam!" He pouts, fighting to get loose.

Dean ruffles his hair. "Hey, don't worry buddy, we can play monsters tomorrow. You can be Godzilla and I'll be King Kong, kay?"

Sam stops struggling but still sticks out his bottom lip. "Sam Kong."

"Yeah alright, Sammy, you can be Kong. You're hairy enough." He tugs on a lock of the brown mop his parents let grow out.

Sam giggles and fights with Dean's hand for a few seconds.

His mom mouths "Thank you." And Deans about to run up to his room when his mom says, "Hey can you tell your father I want to talk to him? I think he's outside somewhere."

"Sure."

She carries Sam upstairs and Dean walks through the kitchen out into the backyard. It's dusk and all the insects are humming and singing. His dad isn't anywhere within sight. He's about to turn back inside when he sees the storm cellar to his left with the padlock off. It's always kept locked since as long as they've lived there. His dad said the stairs had rotten wood and were unsafe.

He looks around again. Maybe he's down there?

Dean pulls open the heavy wooden door on the ground and sees a small light far back out of sight. "Hey Dad?".

Nothing.

Looking around again, he calls down again and waits. Well he couldn't not go down there now. Besides he was told to find his dad, Dean reasons.. knowing he wasn't down there before he even placed his weight carefully on the first step.

When he got to the bottom, his eyes widen at several shelves with all kinds of things from books to ugly figurines. Coming close to one, he sees bottles of different herbs, water, powders, one that looked like blood? Was his dad in some kind of cult or something?

"Salt?" He holds up a canister of Morton's Salt.

Putting it down precisely where he found it, he slowly walks towards a cabinet. Opening it, Dean's mouth falls open to see a collection of different types of weapons from shotguns, hand guns, machetes, a freaking sword. He knew his dad hunted deer and stuff but what the hell.. Was he a crazy weapons collector or what?

Dean grabs a sawed off shotgun from a hook, entranced. He stretches out his arm to point it at the wall, squinting his eyes over it like he's aiming and feeling a little badass. He lowers it, pointing it at the floor and reaches for a short blade he thinks is called a Bowie.

Smiling, he whirls around a few times like a ninja, so caught up he doesn't hear footsteps on the stairs.

"Dean!"

He almost jumps out of his skin and barely notices the slice he cut in his upper leg.

"Why the fuck..Do you not have a goddamn braincell in that head of yours? You could have.." He grabs Dean by the scruff of his neck, yanking the gun then knife handle out of his hands roughly. "Don't you ever come down here! You hear me, boy?" He flings Dean towards the stairs but he trips and lands hard against the first step. Dean cries out at the pain from his cut leg and his side at banging against unforgiving wood.

Breathing hard, John closes his eyes and finally walks towards him with palms out. "Look, son.."

He quickly scrambles to his feet and stomps up the stairs. His dad calls after him but he doesn't stop, doesn't hear anything but the blood rushing in his ears.

Dean doesn't remember the trip but he's suddenly sitting on the floor next to bed on the side closest the window. He wishes he could stop but angry tears burn in his eyes, dripping down his cheeks. He fists his fingers in his own hair out of rage and hurt and confusion. He rubs his eyes over and over with the heels of his palms and laughs once at how pathetic he's being. The slice in his leg is stinging, his side is throbbing, he wants to scream but it would only bring his mom. Finally, he folds his arms over his bent knees and buries his face in them sniffing jerkily until he can't anymore.

He's not sure how much time passes, but sleep begins to drag him under.

The wood of his floor creeks from the weight of steps coming towards him. His fucking dad coming to either apologize or yell at him some more.

"Leave me alone!" He says with venom but his dad doesn't move. Dean lifts his head out of his arms to yell up at him to go away.

Then he stops and just stares..

There, only a few feet away from him, is a boy maybe a few years older than him. Mouth a little open, Dean takes in the sleeveless black shirt stretched tight over his muscled torso, silver cuff around his bicep with weird symbols, dark brown pants that look leather and laced up with a black cord, bare feet.

"What.. who the hell are you? What are you doing even doing here?" He asks dumbly, taken back by the surreal appearance of an odd-looking stranger in his room. 3 stories up.

The boy tilts his head. "Why are you crying?" he says in a voice far too deep for his years.

"What? I wasn't crying. I was just.. angry." Dean rubs his face to wipe away any remaining wetness. "Who are you?" Pushing to his feet, he winces at his leg and pats at his pant leg, damp with blood.

The guy takes a step forward. Deans already trapped against the wall so when a hand is reaching towards him, he grabs the wrist on reflex. Dean's about to yell out but then the light hits his eyes just right.

Blue.. so freaking blue, practically sparkling.. With a flash of recognition, Dean realizes he's staring at the same absurdly bright blue from the night he fell. He's seen blue eyes plenty but he's only seen that unearthly shade one other time in his life. Right before he was pretty sure he was about to die.

"You."

Shocked, he lets the hand move closer, wrist still in his tight grip, until two fingers touch his temple. Within a blink, the pain in his ribs subsides and his leg stops hurting.

After a minute of intense staring, Dean self-consciously lets go of the arm and it's taken back.

"It was you, right? I didn't imagine it? You saved me.." He swallows, feeling a bit lost. "Didn't you?"

He gives a small smile but doesn't answer.

It's making Dean nervous, he's only spoken once and that was to ask about him crying of all things.

"What are you… some kind of mutant? Nightcrawler or.. or.. I mean, what the hell?" He puffs out his breath, trying to wrap his head around this insanity. They evaluate each other from too close for Dean's comfort. Not a gargoyle or a bird man or something. Dean wearily watches him for signs of aggression but the boy seems happy to just stand there quietly, flicking his gaze back at the open window every once in a while.

He looks.. wild. With eyes that unnatural color that he was sure he'd dreamt or altered. Dark brown hair sticking up and barefoot. Out of place in his bedroom like a piece of nature.. a wild creature that just wandered in. He gets the ridiculous impulse to shoo him away like a crow that flew in or something.

Maybe he should go find his dad. If this was the thing.. the person that had been creeping outside his window for so long, shouldn't he tell someone? No wait, fuck his dad. He clenches his jaw and the guy in front of him frowns and takes a step backwards.

"No! Wait!" He brings up his hands to try and show he doesn't mean any harm. The boy hesitates but then they both turn towards his door when the sound of someone coming up the stairs can be heard.

He looks back at Dean for a few seconds more before turning and running towards the window. Not breaking stride, he nimbly bounces up the windowseat and pushes off the sill with the next step, diving out the window gracefully.

Dean runs after him and braces his arms on the window frame, but he's gone.

He's still searching the sky when his dad opens the door behind him.

* * *

**Author's Note: Please let me know what you think. I'm glad there's an interest so far.**


	3. Chapter 3

He doesn't turn around when he hears his dad enter the room.

"Dean."

His shoulders hunch and when he drops his head a little, he sees a bloody foot print on the sill. The.. whatever he was, must have stepped in the trickle of Dean's blood on the floor by the bed. Realizing he also doesn't have a explanation for a bloody pant leg with no wound, he turns to his side so he's half-facing his dad and blocking the window.

"What?" Dean still can't quite meet his eyes without a glare so he stares at the wood right in front of his father's boots.

"Dean.." He hears him sigh and sees boots make a few steps closer. "Look, I'm sorry I shoved you. That.. that wasn't right but Son, what you saw.. that stuff's not for you. Hey! Look at me when I'm talkin' to you." Frustration is hardening his tone.

Dean locks his jaw and flicks his eyes up hard.

"Forget about it. You hear me?" Dean doesn't look away and finally John slumps a little. "But.. maybe I could take you out shooting."

Dean expression doesn't soften yet. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, why not. You're fourteen.. almost 15, practically a man. It'd be good for you. Just.. don't tell your mother."

"When?" His father had a habit of making promises he was too busy later to keep.

"Well, ya know, soon."

He turns back to the window. "Okay, whatever."

"Dean.."

"Night, Dad." He says, hoping he'll walk away without getting any closer. His dad wasn't much for the touchy-feely talks and he doubted he'd push for more.

After a few tense seconds, he hears, "Night, Son."

When the door clicks softly behind him, Dean immediately looks around for something to clean up the blood with. He unzips his ruined pants and looks up out at the night. Thinking better on it, he quickly closes window first.

* * *

The next day, Dean drifts his way through classes, too preoccupied with thoughts of impossible flying mutants and his dad's odd collection down in their cellar. Despite himself, he is kinda looking forward to learning to fire a gun. If it happens. Which it probably won't. His head nods during Econ class. Will He come back tonight? Does he want him to? What does it look like when he flies? Or does he jump long distances? Or crawl up the wall all fast and creepy like a lizard? Dean shivers a little at that thought. It was a kinda embarrassing to think about.. that this intense guy was what had been outside his window for so long. Even so, he had to know more about him. Dean had too many questions. He drifts between daydreaming about the possibilities and sleeping through what classes he's able to without getting caught.

Dean tries not to be too disappointed when his dad is out working till late again that evening. It figures, he knew better than to depend on him. John had been working at Bobby's garage and salvage yard doing repair work on classic cars. His dad was the only mechanic he knew that worked past 8 at night. Whatever. He tries to tell himself he wasn't expecting much. Besides, he has an appointment with a monster baby anyway.

That night in front of his window he waits.. and waits. Way past midnight. The trees are still and no sound of feathers can be heard. No shadow preceding a figure appears. He waits until light peeks over the horizon and he has to start getting ready for school.

All the next week, he's a zombie, staying up to wait but the flying boy with the crazy blue eyes and wild looks never comes. Maybe he satisfied his curiosity with their short meeting. Dean wishes he hadn't seen him sniffling like a baby. Of all the times for him finally to wanna reach out.. and he'd just looked so.. Dean shakes his head. Well whatever. Not like he needed whatever the fuck he'd been anyway.

That weekend, Dean's surprised when his dad tells his mom they're going out bowling. She seems taken back but happy.

"Yep, some one-on-one time with his old man would be good for him." He claps his back a few times.

"Alright, have fun you two. Can you grab some milk on your way back for Sam?"

"Yep. Be back in time for potroast." John says, kissing his mother quick.

Walking towards the car, his dad tells him to get in and goes around the back of the trunk for a few minutes. When gets behind the wheel, John takes a minute to find a classic rock station. When "Highway to Hell" blares out, he turns up the dial before throwing his hand over the seat and backing out of their yard.

After driving for about twenty minutes just listening to music with the windows rolled down, they pull off at a dense collection of woods Dean's never been to before. Turning off a dirt road, they drive a ways longer. Obviously, they weren't going bowling. When his dad stops the car, he immediately walks towards the back again. Dean gets out and comes around in time to see his dad dropping a hatch and covering it with a thin rug so it looks like the bottom of the trunk he's always seen. Out on top are a couple empty cereal boxes, a gallon can of tomato sauce, a gun and a clip he's feeding bullets into.

"You ready for this, Dean?"

"Yes, Sir." Dean's eyes are big, watching closely. His dad pockets a handful of extra bullets in his worn leather jacket and hands Dean the can and boxes before closing the lid.

He follows his dad until they reach a dilapidated old fence that had a few posts still standing. Taking the contents of Dean's arms, he spreads the makeshift targets along a plank of weather-beaten wood. He turns and walks about 35 feet away with Dean in tow. After showing him how to hold the gun (a .22 Glock he's told) properly and going over the safety basics, his dad stands behind him and flips off the safety over his shoulder.

"Okay, try and hit something."

Breathing out like his dad showed him, he squeezes the trigger and is surprised by how his arms buck a little.

"Good. Now, again."

For the next half hour he doesn't hit anything but keeps listening as his dad gives him tips or has him pause to shift one way or another. He has Dean reload the clip and start again. After another half hour, he finally nicks the top flap of one of the cereal boxes.

"Hey, not bad. Aim just to the left of where you were."

Dean stays still and concentrates, willing his arms steady and pulls the trigger. John watches, sipping from a flask he pulled out about ten minutes previous.

The cereal box up ends with the next shot.

"Ha! That's my boy! You're a natural." He smacks him on the back and Dean flushes with the praise.

After taking another swallow, John hands it to Dean.

Dean smiles kinda cautious and tries to act casual as he upends it at his lips. It burns and he only coughs once.

His dad nods and takes it back. "You did real good today, Dean." Looking at the fence, he seems lost for a moment until he says, "Ya know, my dad taught me how to shoot too."

"Yeah?"

John shakes his head and seems harder when he takes the gun from Dean, turning to walk back towards the car without another word. Dean catches up to walk beside him and jumps when after a minute his dad turns back to empty the clip in the tomato can. It leaks red fluid from numerous holes.

"Whoa." He's not sure how far away they are but it seems way further than Dean could imagine hitting something.

"Come on, we still need to grab milk for your mom."

In bed that night, Dean's caught up in the thoughts of the day.. His dad clapping him on the shoulder and telling him "not bad." Letting him have few stolen gulps of liquor. He felt the warmth of his dad pride and the awe at the crazy shots he made.

For the first time that week, Dean falls asleep easily.

He's not sure what woke him up but he startles into consciousness. Blinking a few times, he sits up on his elbows and sees… Him.. perched on the footboard of his bed, just like the gargoyle Dean once imagined he might have been. He's balanced perfectly on bent legs with arms folded on top of his knees.

"Jesus, I thought maybe I dreamed you up or something." He says quietly so as not to wake anyone.

The boy's eyebrows knit as his head tilts with curiosity. "You dream about me?"

Dean feels his face flush and sits up against the headboard. "Don't be stupid. I meant.. you disappeared and I didn't know if you'd come back."

"I wasn't going to."

They're silent for a minute before Dean can't stand not to ask any longer.

"What the hell are you, man?"

He's quite so long Dean doesn't think he's going to answer, but then he hears two words that rearrange his world.

"An angel."

Dean just stares, not knowing what to say to that. When nothing more is forthcoming, he finally parrots, "An angel."

"Yes."

"No, you're not. You're.. you're.." he gestures at him helplessly. "You're like a few years older than me. What seventeen? Eighteen? And angels have like togas and harps and halos and crap.."

He smiles condescendingly through Dean's rant. "Do they?"

"Yeah! And they sure as shit don't eat burgers and hang outside guy's windows.." Dean scoffs, "You don't even have any freakin' wings."

His eyebrows raise. "Do you really need a visual representation of what you already know to be true?"

"Dude, what-"

Dean jumps back against the headboard when he suddenly stands straight up, balancing easily on the thin wooden rail at the end of his bed.

The TV turns on by itself behind him with white snowy static since its still on the auxillary channel from playing video games. The boy rolls his shoulders and widens his stance. Dean's mouth drops open a little as long shadows stretch outwards on the wall behind him in the shape of what looks like.. Honest to fucking god.. wings.

"Christ.." Dean breathes.

He glares down at him for a steady minute as the wings expand the width of his room and then the tv cuts out and the shadows are gone. The boy seems to relax his shoulders and hops down to the floor. It's hard to reconcile his appearance now, expecting to see feathers sprouting out of his angular shoulder blades.

"So.. an angel." He says finally and it sounds far too normal for how he feels. Turning to sit on the side of the bed, Dean watches him casually walk towards the bookshelf and pick out a book at random.

"I hope you do not require further proof. Strictly speaking, that isn't allowed."

"By who?"

He doesn't look up from thumbing through the book but says, "Why were you crying before?"

"Hey, I told you. I wasn't crying."

"Why were you angry then?" He amends easily, apparently remembering what Dean had said at the time.

"It was nothing. My dad.. he can be an asshole sometimes. I found his.." Dean stumbles over what to say he found. "..uh, his weapons collection."

"Your father is a hunter." The angel says. It's not a question.

"Um yeah, well sometimes I guess. Like deer when it's the season and stuff."

He's frowns, but Dean's still talking because he just remembered his vanished wounds.

"What'd you do to my leg? Not to look a gift-horse in the mouth, but it woulda been fun to explain all that blood without a cut."

"I healed you." He says as he picks up a model helicopter and pushes the plastic propellers around, idly.

"That's a nifty trick. What else can you do?"

"I can save you from falling to your death." There's a slight edge to his tone.

"Yeah.. thanks for that. Though, if I recall it was seeing you that caused my nose dive."

He stops watching the blades spin and looks up.

"I could leave."

Dean makes himself stop before he can yell no. "Well, I mean if you want. Whatever."

The boy raises his eyebrows and puts down what he'd been inspecting and takes a step towards the window.

"Wait!"

A small smile curves his lips and Dean rolls his eyes. "Fine, whatever. I just thought maybe you'd wanna talk or something since you've been creepin' outside forever."

He sits back near the headboard, huffily.

After a few moments of holding his gaze, the boy grabs a few books from the shelf and walks towards the bed. Not pausing, he hops up on the rail then takes a step on the mattress before sinking down to sit cross-legged.

It's.. odd to have another male sitting on his bed at night like this. This close he can smell him.. like a hundred summer days in the sun.. like grass just after its mowed.. but then he shakes it off because he's seriously getting lost in another dude's scent. He finally decides it's time to ask, "So what's your name?"

"Castiel." He opens a book, Lord of the Flies, and turns to a page seemingly at random.

"Casta-what?"

He ignores Dean to read what looks like the copyright page.

"I'm Dean."

"I know."

"Yeah well it's polite to ask. And anyway let's pretend you don't because that freaks me out a bit, huh? So.. Hi Cas. I'm Dean." He sticks out his hand across the bed and the angel looks at it.

Dean keeps it out, waiting.

His hand is eventually gripped by a warm one. When they don't move except to stay clasped, Dean realizes he probably doesn't do this often so he moves it up and down quickly.. a little flustered because they'd basically just been holding hands.

"Hello, Dean."

They let go but Cas stays looking at him.

"So.. uh, what do angels do?" It's almost too much to be under the scrutiny of those eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"Like genies grant wishes, vampires suck blood.. what does an angel do?"

Castiel grins indulgently. "What do humans do?"

Dean thinks for a second. "Mainly fuck shit up, I guess."

He makes a noise that might have been a laugh. It makes Dean feel a little less tense. As unbelievable as it is, he's having a talk with an angel and he's going to try to get some of his questions answered.

"Where's your wings when they're not on invisible mode and why do you look like you couldn't buy beer?"

Scrunching his eyebrows he asks, "Beer?"

"I mean, are you like a Doogie Howser angel? Do they all look as young as you?"

Picking one question, Castiel answers, "I've yet to reach maturity." He brings his bicep forward to show the silver cuff shining in the moonlight. "It marks me as a fledgling."

"What about the other angels? Where are they?"

"You are very inquisitive." Castiel says blandly and goes back to flipping through the second book he picked up.

"Are you friggin' kidding me? I'm talking to an angel! An angel that eats McDonald's by the way. What's that about?"

"If you are referring to the food you left me, I enjoyed it immensely."

"It's called a hamburger. Though there isn't any ham in it. Huh.." He takes a second to frown at that then shakes himself. "Angels eat?"

"No."

"But you-"

Suddenly, Castiel straightens his legs and is standing next to the bed.

"I must go."

"Oh. Uh, yeah okay."

They look at each other a moment before he just turns and walks to the window.

"Um.."

Castiel pauses and turns over his shoulder.

"Are you gonna come back?"

He glances at the window then at Dean again.

"Would you want me to?"

"Sure. Ya know.. If you want that is.."

Castiel holds his gaze for what seems like too long before stepping up on the windowseat. He tenses like he's about to jump but stills again. Finally he says not turning back, "I'll return in five days time."

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry for so much John. He's a part of Dean's childhood so I hope you're not too bored. It'll start getting to the good Destiel interaction now, loves. Hope you're enjoying. (o:`,**


	4. Chapter 4

The next day is a Sunday and Dean doesn't have time to start obsessing over waiting for his nightly visitor because his mom tells him they're having company for dinner. She makes him go find a button up shirt upstairs that he just throws a flannel over anyway.

He's peeling potatoes when the door bell rings.

"I got it!" His dad calls as he walks past the kitchen.

Dean can hear laughing and voices before a woman with long brown hair and smile cresses in her skin enters the kitchen with a little blonde girl in tow. She's maybe 9 or 10 and keeping close to her mom.

"Hi! You made it!" Mary finishes washing her hands in the sink and quickly dries them on a dish towel. She rushes over but seems to hesitate in front of them for a second, uncertain. The woman grabs her in a hug for a long moment then pulls away smiling but kinda sad.

"Hey hun. How ya been keepin' yerself?" She has a Texan accent, he thinks. Bobby and his dad follow a half minute later.

"Good. Really good. Sam's getting so big and saying new words all the time."

She nods smiling. "And who's this?"

"Dean?" His dad reminds him. Putting down the peeler, he wipes his hands on the dish towel and comes closer.

"Dean Winchester, ma'am." He moves to extend his hand.

"Aw, none of that, now. Call me Ellen." She shakes his hand firmly, then gestures behind her. "And this is my Jo."

She peeks out from behind her mom and he smiles awkwardly and waves. She lifts up her hand in a small wave in return but doesn't smile.

Ellen sighs and asks to be put to work. His dad grabs all the adults a beer and tells Dean to go show Jo the backyard before Sam wakes up from his nap.

Great, dismissed like a little kid. What the hell was he supposed to talk about with this little kid?

Ellen takes over peeling potatoes and Dean walks towards the back door. He opens it but Jo hasn't moved from her spot in the kitchen.

"Joanna Beth, you go on now. I'll be right here."

The girl drags her feet but crosses the kitchen to the door and follows him outside.

"Well um this is the backyard." He holds out his hand.

"Yeah, I got that." She raises her eyebrows and purses her lips sarcastically.

Dean rolls his eyes and walks towards the simple swing set his parents had bought for Sam. He plops down at the bottom of the plastic slide and leans back to lay his back against it so he's staring up at the sky. Eventually, Jo unfolds her crossed arms and walks to the hanging swing to sit on it and kick at red mulch on the ground.

Dean cushions his head with his hands and wonders if Cas is up there somewhere or if he stays on Earth. It's amazing how much he still doesn't know about the guy.. angel.. but he was already looking forward to his next visit. When a bird caws and flys overhead, Dean starts to try and imagine what it's like when he flies. Does he swoop in swirls or dive and glide?

He breaks out of his daydream when he hears the squeak of the chain on the swing. He should probably try to talk to this girl. Be polite and all even though she wasn't making it easy.

"So uh, Bobby's your dad?"

"What?! Don't be a dumbass!"

Dean's startled by her violent response and sits up to see her glaring at him on the verge of tears.

"Geez, I didn't-"

"Just shut up, okay!" She turns in the swing away from him to sniff until she wipes her eyes on long sleeve.

Shit, what just happened? After a few more tense minutes, Dean has to say something.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.."

"My dad's dead."

Oh. Well that explained it. Now he feels awful. He felt totally inadequate at giving comfort and bit his lip thinking of what to do next.

She makes a noise of annoyance. "You don't have to say anything. It's not going to make any difference. Can we just sit here without talking until they call us back in?"

Dean heaves and regrets not knowing the right thing to say but is a little relieved by her words.

"Yeah, sure." He says quietly and goes back to watching the sky.

* * *

The days fly by in a whirl of classes, friends, home, sleep, repeat and it's the day that Castiel said he'd return before he knows it. The night of however stretches on and on, hours passing slowly on his digital alarm clock.

Castiel doesn't appear until almost 2am. Dean turns around from pacing to see him standing about a foot away.

"Jesus!" He almost shoves him he's so startled by his close proximity without a warning. "Personal space, dude!"

Castiel only takes a step back as Dean catches his breath, waiting for the adrenaline to stop pumping. "I thought you weren't gonna show."

"I said I would, Dean." He says tightly.

"Alright, chill. Sorry."

Castiel seems pacified and turns away to pick up a dragon figurine off Dean's shelf. It was a weird habit he had of seemingly not being able to stay still, always looking at one possession or another with intent curiosity. It kinda reminded him of Ariel from The Little Mermaid, so interested in human knick knacks.. And no he definitely hadn't seen The Little Mermaid.

"So…"

Dean looks around his room as if for something else to say. He didn't want to just constantly bombard the guy with questions but he couldn't think of what he was supposed to do with him now that he was here.

"Yes?" Cas says, glancing at him.

"What's new with you?" That sounded lame. Inwardly groaning, Dean sits down on the window seat, stretching his legs out apart in front of him. He hears a book drop to the floor suddenly. Castiel's jaw is tight and his arms are at his sides.

"What?"

Dean frowns looking behind him and then realizes he's blocking the window. The exit.

"Oh. Sorry."

Getting up, he walks over to his bed and sits up by the headboard like last time. After a few tense moments, the angels grabs a box of his cassette tapes and comes to sit cross-legged at the opposite end.. just as he did before as well.

Dean watches him pick up at tape and scrutinize the small picture of a band.

"I gotta tell ya, man.. besides unloading like a million questions on you, I don't know what else to say to an angel."

"I could ask you questions if you would feel more comfortable." He says, picking up another tape.

"You wanna know about me?"

"Very much."

Dean tries not to smile stupidly because he's a little flattered. "Why?"

"I have not interacted with many humans."

"Cool, so I'm like an ambassador for mankind?"

Castiel just raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, shoot."

"How often do you eat?"

"Ha. Well me me or mankind me?"

"Is there a difference?"

"Well I'm not a good example. Put somethin' in front of me and I'll put it away but normally humans eat three times a day. More or less."

"Do you have a preference for what you consume?"

"Not really. I'm not a big fan of veggies but besides that.. Oh! But pie is where it's at. Especcially my mom's. I left you some blueberry once. When she makes apple, you've gotta try it."

From there Castiel asks about Dean's mother then what he does during the day. When Dean says he usually goes to school, he has to spend a whole half hour explaining the schedule of his school day. It was awkward at first, but the more he talks the less stilted it feels. Castiel never interrupts or adds anything but seems so focused on his answers, despite his preoccupation with methodically inspecting every tape he owns. Soon, Dean's just talking.. telling stories about Sam and his favorite movies or the storyline of some comic until he sees the sun.

"Uggh. I'm gonna be dead tomorrow.. well today."

"My apologizes, I did not realize how much time had passed."

"No it was fun. Weird, but fun. Kinda like you."

Castiel smiles and looks down almost shy.

"Are you gonna come again?"

"If you would like."

And that's how they started. Dean would always ask if he'd come back and Cas would reply with some variation of "if Dean wanted". Sometimes he'd give him a day to expect him, but not always. Then he'd just appear one night, standing near his window. Once Dean was playing Mario on his new Nintendo and he just came in and sat down next to him. Dean offered to show him how to play but Cas declined, content to watch him.

It never entered Dean's mind to tell his parents or friends. They would never understand and he enjoyed their nights together too much to risk ever sharing him with anyone else. Besides it made him feel special to have this secret and that Cas chose him to talk to. No one ever seems to really listen to a 15yr old.. But he paid such careful attention to ever word that came out of Dean's mouth.

Mostly, they would sit on Dean's bed, trading questions or Dean would ramble until he got too tired. Cas would be thumbing through a book or fiddling with an action figure. He had to explain why certain ones were left in their boxes to increase their value which only seemed to confuse Cas. It should have annoyed Dean.. someone messing with all his stuff but he couldn't be irritated with Cas' child-like need to touch and toy with everything.

Through the next four visits, Dean probably gave a lot more than he got.. but he did learn that Cas doesn't eat, but he can. There is a Heaven, but he prefers to be down here. There were other angels and they were all like his brothers and sisters, but Cas was only close to a few. He didn't talk about them any further and Dean didn't press. He hated landing on a topic that made him close up. He ended up feeling like he'd tripped a wire and would backtrack to find something else to talk about.

Once he asked if there was a god and Cas seemed about to clam up but then just said, "Yes." So Dean had to ask, "Have you talked to him? What's he like? Does he have a beard and look like Santa or is he all white light and stuff?"

"I don't know, Dean. I have never seen him. Gabr-… my brother, says he's seen him. That is the only reason I even know my father ever existed."

Dean realizes he fucked up because Cas is staring off at the window, back straight as a board and there's a sound like feathers rubbing together.

"Hey." Before he can get up, Dean reaches out and touches his forearm. Cas turns to look down at the fingers gripping him. It suddenly occurs to Dean.. this is the first time he's touched the angel. He's sure his ears are pink but he doesn't let go. He's beginning to see Cas isn't an odd thing to ogle but has feelings and hurts and it makes him want to fix the wound he just opened.

When Cas finally moves his eyes up to his face, Dean says, "I'm sorry I brought it up but if you ever need a friend to talk to.. I'm here, kay?"

"You believe us to be friends, Dean?"

"Yeah. I mean, don't you?"

Cas frowns and looks back down. "It hadn't occurred to me."

Dean releases his arm, not knowing what other comfort he could give since Cas obviously wasn't going to talk about it and the moment passed. They sat in silence and when Dean hears the rustle of feathers shifting again he asks the first thing that pops into his head to break the quiet.

"Do you think I could feel your wings sometime or would that be uber weird?

Castiel jerks his head up, eyes wide.

"I know they're like not able to be seen by us mere mortals or on this plane or whatever you said but I was just- what?"

Chewing his lip, Castiel seems more flustered than Dean's ever seen him.

"Is that like not allowed too?"

"No.. It's not that."

Dean watches him swallow and smirks at how off-footed he managed to make a freaking angel. He's about to take pity on him and tell him it was no big deal when he feels something brush his upper arm.. just below his shirt sleeve. Dean almost slaps at it because it feels like a bug or something but he sees Castiel is staring at his arm too.

Holy Shit.

Dean tries to stay perfectly still as the softest touch slides up his arm. Cas is hunched forward a bit with a furrowed brow, checking between Dean's face and his arm as if to make sure this was okay.

Dean lets out a small involuntary laugh because it's ticklish. One of the phantom feathers touches his cheek and he abruptly realizes how intimate this kinda is with the only sound being them breathing, Cas a little shakily, and how he moves forward a bit more so now both sides of Dean's arms and face are being caressed. It sends a shiver through him

He can't take Cas' intense blue gaze this close so he turns his face into the softness. It's surreal, he can't see anything but he can feel individual tips and edges against his sensitive skin. Dean breathes in a dusty smell like wheat and earth and powdered honey. As if in a trance, he brings fingers up to try and touch them.

Cas abruptly sits back and with a whip of air, he's free. All the gentle brushes of downy fluff rubbing him are gone.

Dean blinks. Across from him, Cas seems almost out of breath, chest heaving and arms braced behind him so he's leaning away from Dean.

"Was that sufficient?"

"Uh.. Yeah, that was.. something. Man, they're crazy soft, Cas."

He's staring at the ceiling when he mumbles, "Thank you, Dean."

Not long after that, Cas says he needs to leave and will be back within a week.

Dean touches his cheek when he's gone, remembering. Then he scratches it to get rid of the ghost feelings. He tosses and turns but never really falls back asleep.

* * *

**Author's Note: A bit of wingkink does a reader good. Hope you're all enjoying. **


	5. Chapter 5

The next day at school, Dean's locked in a janitor's closet with his frequent make-out buddy, Amanda Heckerling. She giggles prettily when he dips down to kiss her neck. She maybe talked too much but they weren't talking at the moment. Her soft, perfect blonde hair caresses his face and he pushes her harder against the wall, knocking a broom to the floor in the process. His tongue dives back into her mouth to press aggressively against hers.

She breaks away, laughing. "Whoa there, tiger. What's gotten into you?"

"You, Sugar." Dean says easily but when he immediately tries to go for her lips again, she evades him. "Oh yeah?" Amanda was a lot of fun but she really did talk too fucking much. Dean quickly turns his head to capture her again and keeps kissing until they both have to take a breath. When he fists her hair in his hand, she jerks back an inch. "Dean! You're going to screw up my hair!"

He sighs and mumbles sorry against her lips. She smirks and bends to suck at a spot on his neck. Her hand comes up to cup his jaw and a thumb brushes down his cheek. It sends him right back to last night with Cas' feathers sending shivers down his spine. For a second, it makes him feel like Cas is watching him and that bothers him for some reason he can't begin to guess about.

Now he's the one to pull back.

"What's wrong?"

He frowns, not knowing what to tell her. "Nothing. Just.. don't do that." He grabs her hand from his face and holds it at his side.

"Um.. ookay." She says, annoyingly.

The bell rings. Amanda turns away and opens the door. "Let me know when you're done being weird."

Dean rolls his eyes and waits a minute alone in the small room for his hormones to get under control.

* * *

That night in bed, he closes his eyes and lets himself remember the hot n' heavy tongue wrestling with Amanda. It's usually good fodder for his spankbank.

The pressure on his dick from trapping her against the wall had been awesome. Before she stopped it.

Dean licks the palm of his right hand then brings it down under the covers, inside his boxers. He hisses quietly as he stokes his stiffness.

Her tongue slick and sliding with his…

He tugs upwards a bit faster, imagining pulling up her skimpy skirt or pushing fingers under her top to squeeze her tits. Dean swallows a moan.

For a brief second, he gets an involuntary flash of her gently stroking his cheek and how he kinda freaked. The memory of her shampoo, strawberries, gets replaced with the smell of earth and wheat and that freshness of warm afternoons that makes you antsy to be outside. He pauses, but doesn't think about it too hard. Not with the good feelings pulsing through him. Shutting his eyes tighter, Dean lets the softness of Amanda's fingers melt into the sensory memory of Cas' wings. The thoughts of her touching him lower, changes to feathers dragging along his dick. Brushing, tickling.. he plants his feet and fucks up into his hand with every stroke now. Closer.. closer..

"What are you doing?"

Dean's eyes fly open to see an angel a few feet from the bed, eyes wide.

"Cas?!"

Dean lets go of his throbbing cock and bunches the covers around him.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I.. I told you I would return."

"In like a week!" Dean can't look at him, running his hand through his hair and down his face. His pulse is in his throat at being caught.

"I believe I said within the week.."

When Dean just glares at him, he sheepishly looks down at his bare feet.

Well at least he knew why the smell of outdoors and crap got all mixed up with his happy moment. No wonder he was caught up in thoughts of.. wait a sec.

"How long were you there?"

Cas doesn't look up and its odd to see him all bashful. "I'm sorry I intruded, Dean."

"Dude, humans need Me Time. Just.. just can you go?" He's so embarrassed, he doesn't think he can sit there with Cas across from him in the same bed tonight.

Castiel frowns but says, "Of course."

When Dean blows out a breath and turns away again, Cas abruptly starts walking closer.

"What are you doing?" He turns back quickly when he's standing right next to the bed.

"You are injured." He raises two fingers towards him but Dean knocks away his hand.

"No I'm not."

When Cas pushes his head firmly to the side by his jaw, Dean chalks it up to how on edge he still is but his cock twitches.

"Back off, man."

"You're neck.." He keeps his hold, while he thumbs over the mark.

Dean gulps shallowly before he realizes what Cas is seeing.

"Oh, that. I'm not hurt, Cas. It's just a hickey from a chick at school."

"What is that?"

"Man, you need to get out more. It's like a love bite you get from making out.. sucking on someone's neck."

Cas pushes his jaw away hard when he lets go and Dean whips his head back, getting more pissed by the second.

"What the hell is your problem? I'm the one who should be bitchy about you poppin' in unannounced and seeing.. well unannounced." He stutters.

"I apologize, Dean. I'll leave you now." Cas says tightly, striding across the room without looking back. He jumps out the window, out of sight.

"Dammit!" He throws a pillow across the room in frustration at the last few awkward minutes.

Footsteps pound up the stairs. Fucking great..

"What is going on up here?" His dad barges in and his lowered voice does nothing to hide his anger. "I heard voices."

"Sorry, it was the TV."

"Well turn it off and go to bed."

"Yeah, I did already!" He points at the dark TV and his own tone is slightly heated.

"Hey, don't you talk to me like that, boy! Where is this attitude coming from?"

Dean inhales deeply and tries for a calm he is nowhere near. "Sorry, Dad. It was just a show I was into and it ended really sucky."

His dad, seemingly mollified, says "Just keep it down."

"Yep. Night, Dad."

"Night."

After his door closes, Dean drops back against his remaining pillow heavily. The perfect end to a shitty day.

* * *

The following day, he's in the backyard staring up at the sky.. still angry and confused at the night before. Sam whines from the bottom of the plastic slide, waiting for Dean to pick him back up to the top so he can slide down again.

"Dean! Sam slide! Dean! Deeean!"

He sighs before smiling down at his baby bro. "Sorry, Sammy."

Dean grabs the toddler by his middle. Hanging him upside-down, he starts whirling him in a circle making helicopter noises.

The back door opens behind him but Dean just assumes it's his mom.

"Hey."

He turns to see Jo, blonde hair up in a pony tail and hands stuffed in her jean pockets.

"Um.. hey." He eyes her wearily with Sam giggling and squirming in his arms. He lifts him up to the top of the slide and Sam quickly scoots until he descends again with a happy squeal.

"My mom stopped by to see your mom for a sec."

"Oh, okay." Dean doesn't know what else to say.

"Uh, sorry about the other day. I'm still.."

"Nah, forget about it."

She goes to sit on the swing and watch Dean lift Sam up over and over again, mechanically.

"So why the mopey face?"

"Huh? I don't have a mopey face."

"Yeah okay. What's her name?"

"What?! It's not about a girl.. and what would you know about it? You're a kid."

"I'm 11 and I'm not a kid." She says, huffily. "Girls mature faster than boys anyway."

"Is that a fact?"

"Yeah! Look it up in a book if you can read."

Ellen calls from the door. "Jo? If you're done yellin' at the Winchesters?" She smiles and waves at Dean.

"Now if you'll excuse me." She flips her pony tail over her shoulder and walks away.

Well it went a little better than last time.. he guessed.

* * *

He doesn't see Castiel again for over a month.. So long that he forgets his embarrassment and just wishes he'd come back. Even though it's colder at night now, he leaves the window wide open in invitation. Maybe he blew it but how were you supposed to react when a guy sees you jerking off? And Cas had acted all disgusted at his hickey.. He was an angel. They were probably against sins of the flesh. Wow if he knew what awful, sacrilegious thoughts had been in his head right before he interrupted him. Dean still blushes to think about what he imagined his wings doing. When he finally does return, it's just a random night like any other that he hoped to see him. Dean's up with his bedside light on, reading comics.

With a whip of air, a shadow in the shape of a figure stretches against the wall directly opposite the window. Dean's heart is beating in his ears but he forces himself to continue reading without looking up.

Eventually, he hears his bare feet quietly making a path towards him. He stands by the end of the bed but Dean doesn't acknowledge him. The bed finally depresses with his weight when he sits down in his usual spot. Dean slides across a Superman comic to him and flicks his eyes up only to see Cas staring at him, blank faced.. then he goes back to reading his comic.

After a few moments, he elevates his eyes just high enough to see Cas starting to flip through the pages gently.. just like Dean showed him to be with comics. Smiling small, he looks back down again and they read in comfortable silence.

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry this is a bit short but the next part will be a good sized chunk. Hope you weren't too disappointed. (o:`,**


	6. Chapter 6

It's the night before his 16th birthday but Dean can't sleep. Castiel hasn't been back to visit in several weeks. Everything had seemed normal again between them but then he started appearing only infrequently.. and when he did come it wasn't for very long. He didn't know how to fix it and Cas never said anything. Dean sure as shit wasn't going to initiate a talk about that awkward night.

Dean goes to the window and sits on the sill, hanging a leg over the side. Maybe he should have brought up that his birthday was coming up the last time he'd seen him, but how was he supposed to know he wouldn't show up again for so long. It was kinda silly but he would have liked to see him tomorrow night.

The stars seem to get brighter the longer he stares at them. He imagines Cas gliding around up there with wings he's never seen.

"Cas." He whispers into the night. "Where are ya, man?"

His mom wakes him up with chocolate chip pancakes and a new watch, black with a large face and metal links on the band. At the dinner table, he keeps checking it, smirking.

"Have you picked out where we're going for your birthday dinner tonight, hun?" She tries to contain the mess that is Sam tearing apart a pancake in his booster chair.

"I'm thinkin' Smokey Bones. You can never go wrong with BBQ."

"Sounds good. No.. Sam baby.." She catches half a pancake midair as it goes flying. "Okay no more chocolate for you, mister."

When Dean gets to school, Charlie gives him sticker about the size of his hand in homeroom.

"Happy Birthday! It's for your locker. It was seriously lacking affiliation." Dean smiles when he sees it's the DeathStar from Star Wars and on impulse gives her a one-armed hug. They hadn't been too close besides idle chatting before class but it kinda touched him.

"Aw. Are we having a moment?" She laughs pulling back and punches him in the arm lightly. "You're getting sentimental in your old age, Winchester."

"Yeah, I guess so."

At lunch, him, Benny, Victor and Ash all skip lunch period to grab pizza at a nearby Mom n' Pops place. They spend almost an hour joking between mouthfuls of sauce and cheese, sipping pepsi and feeling carefree and full of that youthful excitement you get when you're out with friends, reveling in being somewhere you're not supposed to be.

They make it back just before the classes change for 5th period and he even has time to pull Amanda into their favorite hidden spot. He whispers pet names between kissing her sweetly and she lets him get to second base this time. It was turning out to be a pretty great birthday..

Until he gets home.

When Dean comes through the door, Sam is crying in his fenced in Baby Corral. Arms up, it's clear he wants to be let out but his mom is pacing in the kitchen on the phone.

Dean goes to grab Sam and holds him close, making soothing noises.

"No, don't you do this to me-" He walks a little closer to hear. "I know, but you said-" His mom smiles weakly when she notices him. "Just please come home as soon as you can. Okay, bye."

Sam squirms, so Dean lets him down to waddle away. "What's up?"

"Your father's going to be a little late."

"Seriously?"

"I know, I know. He says he'll be here soon."

Dean sighs. "Okay, whatever."

Flatly refusing to consider doing homework on his birthday, Dean goes to the TV and flicks through the channels until he finds a Ren and Stimpy marathon.

Hours pass and Mary makes peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, crusts cut off, to hold them not to take out his annoyance on his mom, he smirks and asks Sam, "You get any of that in your mouth there, buddy?" Even though his brother's was cut into four triangles, he still managed to get grape jelly all over his chin, nose and one ear because he stubbornly refused any help. Sam giggles and tries to reach the jelly on his nose with his tongue.

Mary kept glancing out the curtains at the front yard, then the clock, finally at her sons, giving a strained smile and saying something like "I'm sure he just got held up. Any minute now."

It was looking more and more like their traditional family birthday dinner wasn't going to happen. Dean smiled for his mom and said it was alright. Not to worry and they could go out anytime.

Around 7, when it was just starting to get dark outside, his dad bursts through the door. Hand still on the knob, he slumps against it and looks close to tipping forward.

"John?!" Mary quickly runs to him and checks for where he's wounded.. because blood is soaking his shirt and dripping on the linoleum.

"I..I'm alright. Call Bobby." He winces and sits down right there in front of the door.

"Dad?" Dean goes to help him.

"Take your brother upstairs Dean."

"Okay, but Dad-"

"Now, Son!" He bites out and sucks at his teeth as if the exertion of yelling hurt.

Dean's jaw ticks but he turns to pull a sniffling Sam out of his booster seat and grab a dishtowel to wipe his face on his way to the stairs. He watches his mom talk frantically into the phone and hunch down by his father's side before starts up to his room with Sam in his arms.

"It's alright, Sammy. We're gonna hang out in my room for a while, kay?"

He pulls his cushy comforter off his bed and spreads it out on the floor. Setting his brother down, Dean grabs some old Superman, Green Lantern, Flash and Batman figures for him to play with.

After a while, Dean goes to sit at the window. He sees Bobby's beat up Chevelle tear into the yard and jerk to a stop. He crosses the room to the bedroom door and inches it open to see what he can hear. There's only muffled voices and painful grunts every so often.

"Thu-per Man!"

Dean opens the door a little wider, but can't hear much more.

"Dean! Thu-per Man!"

"Yeah, I know, Sammy. Superman."

"Dean."

He turns at the familiar gravelly voice, and sees Sam is pointing at his absent angel who's stepping down from the window sill. Sam claps.

"What the hell, dude! I don't see you for weeks and you chose tonight to turn up?"

Dean quickly closes his door and stops when he's halfway between Sam and Castiel.

"You prayed to me. I was.. concerned."

"What? No I didn't."

"Last night. I could not come until now."

Dean thinks about how he was thinking of him and said his name. Huh, guess that counted.

"Oh. Sorry.. I didn't mean to. I thought you prayed to saints and god and stuff. It works for angels too?"

"Yes. If you think of me and concentrate on words you want me to hear, then I will."

"Sorta like a one way convo on a can with a string."

"No.. nothing like that."

Dean grins. "Nevermind. Well I guess you should meet my little bro."

He steps aside and reveals an open-mouthed Sam who when he sees both of them are looking at him says simply, "Thu-per Man."

"Uh, yeah kinda. This is your imaginary friend, Cas."

Castiel raises his eyebrows at that but bends down and says, "Hello, Sam." He extends his hand like Dean did the first time they met. Sam just looks at it before grabbing his finger and trying to gnaw on it.  
Cas lets him and gives Dean a confused if not slightly worried expression.

"Oh good. He likes you."

Extricating himself, the angel wipes his hand on his dark brown leather pants. "I don't remember that being part of your greeting ritual."

For a second, Dean imagines biting Cas' fingers and feels his face heat.

"Hey, can you uh.. like stick around for a bit? My dad's hurt downstairs and.. ya know, just till I know he'll be alright."

Maybe if it got really bad.. Cas could heal him. He won't ask until he knows it's a last option but still it's comforting to have him here. Just in case. He doesn't know if Cas senses this but after a second of frowning he finally says, "Of course."

Castiel sits down with an arm around one bent knee in front of Sam as he babbles on about each figure, half gibberish, half stunted words all strung together. He nods and listens the whole while and its makes him oddly happy after all the worry knotting his stomach about his dad.

"You are close with your brother." He says while he observes Sam laying down on the makeshift pallet sleepily.

"Yeah, he grows on ya." Dean ruffles Sam's mop of brown hair, affectionately. "You're close with a few of your siblings too, right?"

"Yes. A few brothers." Dean nods but Cas keeps talking. "I did have a sister once.."

"Geez, I'm sorry Cas." He hesitates with a hand already up to grab his shoulder to comfort him.

"She isn't dead, but she might as well be. She.. she left us. Left me."

Dean's confused but can tell this is one of those topics he should skip over. But Cas is the one bringing it up.

"You don't know where she is?" He tentatively asks.

Castiel picks up a Thesaurus lying on the floor with the other school books and Dean takes that as a hint. Apparently they were done talking about siblings.

After another hour, Sam is curled up on the comforter against Dean's leg. Cas is quiet, sitting next to him. He looks back at the window from time to time and it starts to irritate Dean. He can't help thinking about the days and days between Cas' visits now. Maybe he's getting bored with him. They've talked about every mundane human thing Dean could think of.. down to what games he plays with Sam and what he hates about Algebra. Maybe the angel had another guy.. or even girl he liked to visit more now. Eventually the nightly visits would continue to be less and less until one day… he'd just stop coming.

"I can almost hear your thoughts, you're thinking so loudly."

Dean glares at him. "What?! You can't though, right? Because that's really-"

"Impolite. And we are friends, as you said."

Cas glances at the window again and Dean's getting pretty fucking annoyed with it by now.

"If you wanna go, just freakin' go already."

Cas turns to him with knit eyebrows. "I don't."

A few seconds of more silence and Dean asks, "Cas, do you.. uh.. do you visit other people? Like on the days when you're not here?"

The angel is watching him closely now, not fidgeting with one of Dean's possessions like he usually does. Keeping those crazy blue eyes of his steadily on him, Cas asks slowly, "Would it bother you if I did?"

Dean grits his teeth and makes a scoffing sound. "No. Why would it?"

"If the answer doesn't affect you, why ask the question?"

"God, you're a pain in the ass sometimes."

He stares ahead at the moonlight making shadows over his floor. Cas seems happy to just sit there without picking back up the conversation. After several minutes more of neither of them talking, Dean says, "I just wanted to know if.." Cas turns to him again, waiting. "If you have this with a lot of other people too or if I was.."

Dean manages to cut off just in time before he gets out "special." He's isn't looking anywhere near Cas' direction but he hears his, "No, I don't."

"Oh." Dean glances at him quickly. Chewing his lip, he turns away and then right back again. "No like not a lot or no like no one else."

Cas' lips twitch up for a quick moment. "No like no one else."

"Oh." Dean can't stop the stupid smile on his face so he shifts his gaze back down at Sam. When he looks up, Cas is still staring at him.

"Why me?"

Now Castiel turns away, shrugging. "Your window was open."

Dean nods, the smile slipping away.

"And you were.. interesting. Your soul felt restless. It was.." Cas frowns up at the ceiling like he's remembering. "..difficult to ignore. I could not seem to help myself from trying to learn more about you. I would not have approached you so directly had you not fallen that night."

Dean rubs the back of his neck, feeling flattered and anxious at the same time.

"Well anyway, I'm glad you picked my-"

Soft footsteps on the stairs have Dean sitting up straighter.

"Cas, you have to-" But he's already gone. His bedroom door opens and his mom comes in with her chin up and eyes puffy.

"Hey, honey."

"Mom, what happened?"

"He.. he said it was just a stupid hunting accident. He got kicked when a buck's..." She trails off and seems on the verge of crying now. Sitting next to Dean, Mary cups his face. "Your father is complicated, Dean.. But baby, he loves you very much."

"I know.."

"I promise we'll go out this weekend for your birthday. He really is a good man. I wish.."

"He's going to be okay, though?" He cuts in, not wanting to hear it.

"Yes, thank god for Bobby. Your dad will be fine. Angels were watching over him.. and they're watching over Sam and you too. Always."

"Mom.." Dean turns a little pink, thinking about Cas possibly just outside the window.

"You'll never be too old to hear it. Even if you're thirty and married with children, I'll be telling them too."

"Alright, alright. Geez." He rolls his eyes when she kisses his forehead.

"Thanks for watching over Sam tonight. You're such a great big brother."

She picks up her sleeping son and gets to her feet. Dean does the same and makes like he's about to change clothes for bed, pulling a tshirt and plaid pajama pants out of his drawers.

"Night, Mom."

She flicks off the light, maneuvering Sam in her arms and says, "Happy Birthday, Honey."

He waits no more than a minute while the sound of his mom descending the stairs fades and he goes to the window.

"Cas?" He whispers. Nothing. Maybe he took off when his mom came up.

"Dean." Whirling, he almost bumps into him standing right behind him.

"Where were you?"

"In your closet."

"My mom coulda seen you!"

"She didn't. I was interested in seeing her." He tilts his head a little and ask, " Have you told her about me?"

"Christ! Of course not."

"Then why did she say I was watching over you?"

"Dammit. You woulda had to hear that, huh? Just forget it."

Cas looks like he wants to argue but then instead says, "Your mother also indicated it was your birthday."

"Yeah. I almost forgot with all the drama. Doesn't matter.. it's just another day."

"I have seen enough of humanity to know you celebrate the anniversary of your birth. If you had told me I would have…" He trails off, brow furrowed.

"Cas, really it's no biggie. Don't worry about it. I'm going out with some friends this weekend."

The angel looks practically annoyed for a second before glancing at the window.

"I could.. would you want me to take you flying?"

"What, for real? You mean like.." Dean lifts his arms and flaps them once. "Flying flying."

"Yes. I would carry you."

"You really think you can take holding me and keeping airborne? I almost died taking a swan dive once already."

"You doubt my strength, Dean?" Castiel's whole body radiates irritation.

"No, I just mean.." He turns back to the window and steps up on the seat then the ledge to lean out and judge the distance to the ground wearily. "It's a long way down if you're wrong…"

Suddenly, Cas is behind him, flush against his back and bare feet braced outside his boots. Dean grips the frame hard so he doesn't panic and accidentally lean too far forward away from the warm body pressing against him from behind.

"I suppose you'll have to trust me, Dean."

Dean can only raggedly get out the next breath. He didn't really think about what it meant for Cas to "take him flying." An arm hooks around his stomach and he almost steps back.. but with Cas there.. there's nowhere else to go. He looks down again, swallowing.

"Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be, I guess."

He thinks they'll lift off into the air or something and almost yells out when Cas pushes their bodies forward then kicks off the ledge so they're falling straight down. For only a second, one bleary blink, the ground rushes towards his face. He has time to mentally repeat "shit shit shit shit" before they pull up out of the dive with a graceful swoop and then they're steadily climbing higher.

Dean puffs out a hard breath. He feels slight pulls with their ascent, wings pushing down through the air to force them higher. All there is to see is a few dark houses and miles of tree tops. Castiel skims along them and they blur in a collection of deep green underneath him. The airs a little thinner now and colder this high up and he shivers. Cas' other arm comes around high up and pulls him tighter against his chest then swoops lower. Despite the chill, Cas' body always stays a burning warmth wherever it touches him.

This. Is. Fucking. Amazing.

The angle and velocity Cas keeps ensures his legs never dangle. Their bodies are always close and Dean doesn't worry about being dropped. His stomach does a flip flop like he's on a rollercoaster. Smiling, he yells out with a surge of jubilance. They pass over cow pastures and fields, never close to town. For a moment, he kinda feels like Superman and stretches his arms out far, laughing. Though he can barely hear it, he can feel Cas laughing deeply behind him. Eventually, they head back towards familiar clusters of homes with happy sleeping families he knows.

Thankfully, there's about two acres between the next closest house so no one sees their nighttime return. His house is still dark, window still wide open. This must be the view that Cas always gets coming to visit. His speed slows now and when they're almost on top of the window, he brings them up short causing their bodies to pull back and fall forward.. no longer horizontal. Cas touches down on the sill, letting him go. Dean shakily stumbles and is caught before he can trip. He's pulled right up against Cas' chest again, panting.

"Are you okay?" Cas waits for him to brace his arms on the frame and get steady.

"Yeah." He gasps, a bit of awe in his voice but he doesn't care. "It was.. wow. Thanks, Cas."

He still hasn't let Dean go, so he just continues breathing hard and staring ahead to see their melded shadows on his bedroom door across the room. It's like he's in a doorway between worlds.. half in his normal room with his normal life.. half out in the night and diving through the skies with Cas' impossible world.

They stand there together.. the press of Cas' chest to his back and leather pants against jeans until right up above his knees where Cas' legs are wider apart. He's weirdly nervous now than he ever was in the air with fields racing below him. A warm hand slowly drags across his stomach then moves to grip along the window right below Dean's hand, fingers barely touching. There's a tension he doesn't understand all of the sudden and he starts to freak when he seriously feels his jeans getting tighter and oh god why is hell is he fucking getting hard? It.. it. Must be the adrenaline from flying and.. and teenage guys get boners at the drop of a hat. It's goddamn hormones. He silently wishes Cas would leave. If he waits and Dean has to turn around.. it'll be painfully obvious and awkward again.

Cas leans close over his shoulder and Dean swallows the extra saliva in his mouth. What the hell is going on?

"Happy Birthday, Dean." Cas says right into his ear, his deep voice making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

With a quick whip of noise, he's alone. Shakily, Dean steps down into his room and blinks out at the night before looking down in confusion.

Dean wakes up a few hours later when he feels the bed dip. He squints his sleepy eyes to see a dark figure sitting at the end of his bed.

"Cas?"

"What?"

Dean blinks, totally fucking awake now.

"Dad! Are you.. how ya feelin'?" He stutters.

"Fine. Who's Cas?"

"No one.. I was dreaming or something."

His dad sighs and hunches a little over. Dean sits up and turns on his bedside lamp.

"Do you need help? Want me to-"

"No. Look I'm sorry about today, Dean." His dad is in his big gray bathrobe, but he can still see a bit of a large white patch of medical tape on his side.

"Don't worry about it." Dean doesn't ask why he couldn't wait till the weekend to go out hunting for deer.. why he had to go on his birthday because it seems petty with him all hurt in front of him. But he thinks it.

John brings up his arm and has a good sized knife in a brown leather sheath.

"This is a Bowie and I wouldn't be giving it to you if I didn't think you were mature enough to have it." Dean slowly reaches across to take it but his father doesn't let it go yet. "Now it isn't to play with and show off to your friends. I'll teach you a thing or two when I'm up for it but in the meantime.. keep it somewhere out of sight. Somewhere your mother or Sam isn't gonna find it. Okay?"

"Yes, Sir." Dean says, wide-eyed.

His father lets it go and Dean immediately slips it out of its holster to watch the moonlight glitter off the blade.

"Alright, now go back to bed."

Dean reluctantly stows the knife between his mattress until he can find a better spot in the morning.

John frowns and opens his mouth like he's going to say more but just cuffs Dean by the back of the neck and pulls him into a hug. Dean's startled but returns it, gently, trying to avoid his wound.

"Happy Birthday, Son."

Author's Note: Did everyone enjoy Dean's birthday? I almost have the next chapter done so it won't take so long.


	7. Chapter 7

Outside the next day, Dean is caught up in memories of Cas' "gift." Half of him is watching Sam play in his sandbox with a little plastic shovel; the other half is gliding through the brisk night sky, yelling out with joy over a field. He didn't really expect to see Cas again anytime soon, but he still waits up at night. Just for a few hours.

He doesn't let his thoughts touch on.. It was normal, dammit! What with the excitement and danger and thrill of… Dean jerks his head as soon as he realizes he was thinking about it again.

Sam is busy making a sand castle that looks more like a sand hovel monstrosity when Dean hears it.

Wings.

He's sure of it. The same sound that haunts him whether he's asleep or daydreaming. Out in the woods that line their backyard. He checks that Sam is engrossed in his sand pile and walks towards it.

It's darker under the trees, the sunlight muffled. A few feet in whispers harshly, "Cas?"

No one answers but there's a crunch of dead leaves far to his right. He turns and walks a ways in that direction and calls again, "Cas, that you?"

There a stillness that settles over the woods and it's suddenly a bit eerie.

"Dean!" His mother calls.

He frowns one last time out at the shadowed trees and turns back towards his house. When he hears the same sound that drew him there, he whirls and searches behind him until his mom yells his full name.

Dean knows he's in trouble as he emerges to see his mom with folded arms.

"I was just-" he starts.

"Don't you ever leave your brother like that!"

He's taken back by how upset she sounds and her tone bends down to grab Sam's chubby hand and says, "C'mon baby, it's time for some lunch."

Dean watches her knock sand off his pants and walk towards the house.

"Mom.."

Mary turns back and looks close to tears. "You're the big brother, Dean. I need to be able to trust you with him."

Jesus, they'd been in the backyard. What the hell? Dean wallows in self-pity at the injustice of his mom's overreaction for a while longer before walking into the kitchen. Mary sighs when she sees him come in and gets up to open the fridge. He sits down quietly at the table and hands Sam back his spoon that he threw on the floor. Mary places a piece of the peach pie in front of him.

"Sorry, Mom." He says staring at the crust.

"I know. Eat your pie."

* * *

Weeks and weeks rolls by after his birthday and it doesn't get any better. Dean can't help getting lost in daydreams of flying. School is the worst. Castiel sure hasn't done his grades any favors. He'd already been grounded twice for crappy report cards. It was hard to pay attention to quadratic equations when he could zone out and remember what it looked like to be inches above the tree tops or feel your body cut through freaking clouds. Occasionally, he'll settle on a memory of bare arms tight around his chest and stomach or.. the odd moment at the end that had his lower regions acting so stupid.. but he pushes those aside quickly.

Every night he stays up.. but Castiel hasn't been back since. He missed just sitting up and talking half the night, ranting about anything and everything, occasionally being able to sneak Cas a hamburger and smirking at the look of sublime happiness that crossed his usually stoic face. Even the things he didn't get, which were plenty, were fun to sit and explain. Once Cas had asked him to explain the plot of Mario, saying he didn't understand why anthropomorphic reptiles were determined to capture a princess from plumbers. And then to explain what a plumber was.

It's hard to remember what it was like without having this special addition to an otherwise normal teenage life. Something that was all his. Something extraordinary. An angel wanted to spend time with him. Well did. When the weeks turn to months he has to face that Cas might not come back. The nighttime flight could have been a parting gift.. but Cas said he didn't go to anyone else. Dean assumed that meant their friendship was.. special. Something at least. He deserved more than this, dammit.

What if he was dead? It could happen and he'd never know. Dean panics and starts to pray to him, concentrating like Cas said. Every night there after he repeats a short prayer asking, "Where are you?" and "Are you okay, Cas?" like a nightly ritual. He never comes.

One morning Mary places his eggs and bacon in front of him and asks, "Are you feeling, alright?"

"Sure, Mom." Dean answers mechanically, breaking apart his bacon but no eating it.

"Nothing's wrong?" She asks for the hundredth time it seems.

"No, I'm fine." He answers as he always does.

"Is Cas giving you a hard time, Son?' His dad smirks, folding his newspaper down.

"What?!" Dean jerks his head up.

John laughs and Mary raises an eyebrow and puts her hands on her hips.

"And just who is Cas?"

At the exact same time, John says, "That's what I'd like to know." Dean says, "No one!" and Sam yells, "Thu-per Man!"

Goddammit, why did his dad have to remember that? Stupid. Stupid. Stup-

"Well whoever she is, Dean's dreamin' about her." His dad sips his coffee as Dean feels his whole face turning red. He needs to get out of there. Now.

"Is Cas a girl at school, honey? That explains it." She smiles and pats his hunched shoulders.

God, kill him now.

"Young love." She sighs exaggeratedly.

"Thu-per Man!" Sam says trying to contribute. "Uh huh," his mother coos back placating.

Dean scoots his chair back abruptly and takes his full plate to the sink.

"Oh come on, Dean. We're just teasing you." Mary laughs as she grabs Sam's balled fists that he's started waving around while making excited "shoo shoo shoo" noises. She lowers them and hands him back his baby spoon for his oatmeal.

"I'm gonna be late for the bus." He mutters, grabbing his backpack.

"Go get her." His dad smiles and Dean rolls his eyes.

It all felt too real for a minute. His parents saying Cas' freaking name. If they knew Cas was a boy.. well male angel.. whatever, that snuck into his room every once and a while.. and that the reason he was sulking is because he missed him.. and that he sometimes had reeeally inappropriate reactions around him. Well there was no good was to explain any of that. Jesus, he could just imagine the shit storm his dad would cause. Angel or no, Cas would be lucky to escape with all his feathers intact. Thinking of Cas as some kind of plucked chicken had Dean smiling for halfway to the bus stop, until he remembered that it wouldn't be an issue. Because Cas didn't appear to be coming back.

His friends notice. Benny tried the hardest to knock him out of his funk with jokes and invites out with them on the weekends but that stops after a while. He gets distance and sullen, withdrawing into himself. It was cold enough to be hoodie weather and during class he'd bury his face in his arms, hood up, and sleep, since he hardly could at night anymore. Amanda eventually got tired of his bad attitude and what she termed "being emo" and moved on to Brady. He sees them in the halls together but doesn't really care too much. Then he felt worse because he didn't care more.

Finally, Charlie of all people nudged him when he's sleeping at a lunch table.

"Huh?" He picked up his head from his arms and wiped at the drool on his chin.

"What's a matter, Winchester?" She says, sticking her bottom lip out ridiculously far.

"Nothing." He mutters, pushing his tray of fries and chicken nuggets away further to make room for his folded arms on the table.

"Nothing doesn't have you forgoing fries." She pops two in her mouth.

He doesn't respond except to sip his coke and rubs his face to wake up more.

She screws up her mouth thoughtfully before saying "We should hang out today."

Dean's eyebrows raise when he gives her an incredulous look. "You and me?

"Yeah, why not? I can whip your ass at Mario. Have you found the secret pipe to World 8, yet?"

Honestly, he hadn't been in the mood for videogames. Or anything. He just shakes his head. Fuck, he should come up with an excuse to get outta this. If she's trying to flirt with him, he really wasn't into it. Charlie's cute and all but he always got more of a sisterly vibe from her.

"C'mon. You got a better offer?"

Crap, this was going to be weird.

"Um, okay.. I guess." He yawns and takes another sip of carbonated goodness.

"Cool. I'll bring the Doritos and Mountain Dew."

Charlie offers to take him home so he can direct her to his house. She stops her beat up yellow Volkswagen Beetle at a convenient store on the way to pick up an adequate amount of junk food.

When he walks into the kitchen with Charlie in tow, his mom is facing away, hands in soapy dish water.

"Honey, try to be quiet. I just got Sam to- Oh!" She stops and beams at them. "Is this Cas?"

"Hi! I'm Charlie. Who's Cas?" They both look at Dean.

"Geez, no one. C'mon Charlie. Mom, we're gonna play Nintendo in my room, kay?"

"Door open, please!" She calls softly after them. Dean winces in embarrassment and ascends the stairs quickly. Charlie follows. Once upstairs, she dumps the junkfood in a pile on his bed while Dean tosses his bookbag in the corner.

Spinning around slowly, Charlie takes in his vintage rock posters before walking over to poke through his small book case. She picks up his dragon figure and it sends him an unexpected jab of sadness, reminding him of when Cas...

He shakes his head and belly flops across his bed. He feels Charlie come sit on the bed next to him.. almost exactly in Cas' spot.

"So.. you wanna play?"

Dammit, he knew it. She's too close and they're both sitting on his bed..

Dean turns so he's propping his head up with a hand. "Um, look Charlie. I really think you're an awesome chick and all.. but.. uh.."

Charlie laughs and pushes him so he falls on his back. "Oh get over yourself, Dean. The only man I'm interested in is a vertically challenged, Italian stereotype."

"Huh?"

"Mario. And just for that, you're Luigi. Let's go."

Dean smiles and gets up to set the game to play. He's about to sit down when what she said begins to sink in. He flashes on all the times he's seen her joking with Gilda in homeroom.. what could be seen as flirting if you were looking for it. No. Stop. It's none of his business.. but once the idea hits him he has to ask.

"So when you say the only man.."

Charlie raises an eyebrow, not helping him.

"You mean like.. You.."

"Don't hurt yourself, Winchester."

"You like girls?" He gets out quick.

"Oh, so since I'm not interested in you I have to be a lesbo?"

"What? No no.. geez sorry, I just thought.. nevermind."

"Relax. I couldn't resist. Yeah I'm more of a Leia girl but I can still appreciate Han's bod."

"Oh. Well that's.. cool."

"Are you gonna act weird now? No we don't have pillow fights in our underwear. Can we move on now?"

Dean laughs awkwardly and hands her the rectangular control. "I'm devastated."

They sit on pillows in front of the tv on the ground. While waiting for game to load, Charlie sees a book under his bed and pulls it out. "Fairytales?" she raises her eyebrows. "Didn't pick this as the reading material you'd keep under here." She smirks.

"Oh, that was… that's Sammy's." He grabs it and tosses it on the bed behind them. Truthfully, it'd been a book he'd been saving for Cas that he'd snuck out of Sam's room. Sam had never been interested in it and Cas had loved the copy of Alice in Wonderland he'd had for his English Class analysis. He'd almost forgotten it was there.

The familiar cheery theme music begins and Dean presses START.

They manage to get through three and a half worlds and a whole jar of French Onion dip by the time the sun goes down.

"Man, for a girl you sure do eat like a linebacker." He scoops out the last bit and pops the chip in his mouth.

Charlie glares at him before snatching his controller and tossing it past him. By the time he scrambles and has it back in his hands, he's in lava.

"Oh no. You died." She gives him a fake sympathetic face.

Dean reaches out to cover her eyes with an outstretched hand. She ducks but still falls in lava.

"Oh no. You too." He mocks.

"Ugh, you ass!"

Charlie pushes him to the side and grabs a pillow and knocks her in the face with it.

"I refuse to pillow fight with you, Dean!"

Grinning he says, "What is it with you and pillow fights?"

She has time to roll her eyes before getting another smack to the face. "That's it." Charlie grabs the other pillow at her feet and yells, "For the Republic!" lunging and trying to smother him.

Dean's laughing and out of breath, feeling better than he has in weeks. Months even. So of course right when he has Charlie in a headlock, he catches something out of the corner of his eye. He lets her go as he turns to see.. Cas. Just there. One foot on his windowsill, one hand on the frame, half in and half out of his room. Same dark brown leather pants, black sleeveless shirt, barefeet and wild hair like he didn't even know what a brush was. Their eyes lock over Charlie's shoulder. She's pink-faced and trying to regain her breath too. "Draw?"

Without a flicker of emotion crossing his face, Cas turns away. Goddammit. Why now?

"Wait!" He yells out before he can stop himself.

Charlie jumps. "What?" Seeing him staring at the window past her, she turns around. The window's empty.

"Sorry." He says still staring at the place an angel had been just a second ago.

His mom comes up right after that, no doubt in result of all the noise they made wrestling around and casually asks if Charlie would be staying for dinner.

Dean stutters, "Uh.."

"No thanks, Mrs. Winchester. I have to get back to my mom." She smiles tightly but Dean's preoccupied and quickly says, "I'll walk you out."

Mary smiles broadly with pride. "It was so nice to meet you, Charlie."

Charlie winks at Dean, further cementing the idea in his mom's head that she was his girlfriend or something.

As soon as her Bug backs out of his yard, he only spares a second to wave before he immediately starts whispering, "Cas!"

He walks along the house until he's in the backyard. "Cas! Are you out here?!"

When he hears the familiar rustle of feathers he whips around to see Castiel rigidly watching him.

"Cas!" He walks towards him smiling and before he realizes it, grabs him in a hug. "Damn, it's good to see you!" The angel doesn't return the embrace but stays stiff in his arms. They probably weren't huggers. But then neither was he usually.

He pulls back and ignores the blank-face he gets when he notices a long angry scratch from just below the silver cuff on his arm to past his elbow.

"Christ, what happened to you? Can't you heal that?" Dean says as he reaches out to trace it lightly.

Cas presses his lip and frowns. "Please stop touching me, Dean."

"What? Oh. Sorry." He drops his hand to his side.

"Why have you been praying to me?" Cas says in curt tone.

Dean bunches his eyebrows. "What do you mean why? I haven't heard so much as a flutter from you in months. I thought you were dead or.."

Judging from this greeting, maybe he'd been right. Maybe Cas just didn't want to visit him again. Did he not even plan to tell him?

Cas tilts his head like he does.. or did so often. "Was that the one who leave the marks?"

"Huh?" Marks… Oh, hickeys. "Is that what has your panties in a bunch?"

Dean's back hits hard against the wall of his house when Cas shoves him, following so he traps his body.

"I would rather not watch you fornicate."

Where the fuck was this coming from? Dean blinks and wets his lips to remember what he wanted to say. Cas' fingers are twisted in his shirt as he crowds his body with his own. Dean's wide green eyes can't look away from the pissed off angel's glare. A quick thrill of excitement runs through him.

"Cas.." He breathes slowly. "That wasn't her. She's makin' marks on someone else now." Dean tries to joke to break the tension.

His jaw doesn't unclench so he keeps going. "That was a friend. Charlie. And.. well let's just say I'm not her type."

Cas' expression is unsure now but still full of distrust. "But you were.."

"Playing. Horsin' around? Trust me, I have the wrong equipment." When he just seems more confused than ever, Dean rolls his eyes. "She's gay, dude. Um.. likes marking girls instead?"

The fingers release him and Cas takes a step back. Dean can finally breath and nervously stretches out his shirt, straightening the wrinkles.

"Is that common for humans.. favoring relations with the same gender?"

"Um, well I don't know. Sometimes?"

"Dean!" His dad's voice yells from the other side of the house. He must have just got home.

"Shit, I gotta go. Will you come back? Just give me like an hour okay?"

Cas looks torn but when Dean quickly whispers "Please, Cas?!" He answers, "Okay."

"Dean!" His dad yells again.

"Yeah!" Dean calls, smiling as he walks backwards. "Alright, see ya soon." Cas nods.

At the dinner table, Dean shoves meatloaf and mashed potatoes into his mouth with a gusto he hasn't possessed in a while. His parents smile at each other.

"So Charlie seemed nice." Mary grins, knowingly.

"Charlie?" John asks.

"Dean's friend he had over before you got home." Mary mouths "a girl."

"Charlie, huh? Cas, Charlie.. Why can't you find a girl with a nice normal name like Jessica or Ashley?"

"John, stop." Mary warns, giving him a look.

"He knows I'm joking." His dad goes back to spearing off a bite of meatloaf. "So tell us about her."

Dean knows he could never tell his dad about Charlie. Not really. Definitely not why she wouldn't be a prospective girlfriend so he doesn't even try.

"She's just a friend from school. Can I be excused?"

"Not until we're done and you help your mother with the dishes."

Dean has to wait an excruciatingly long time until everyone finishes, dishes are done, and Sam's cleaned up before he can run up to his room. When he sees Cas isn't there, he grabs plaid pajama bottoms, boxers and a tshirt and rushes back out to the bathroom. Taking the quickest shower ever and ignoring his half-hard erection, he's back in his room with brushed teeth and damp hair dripping in his eyes in less than 5 minutes.

"That was longer than an hour." Cas says, sitting on the windowseat.

Dean gets a flood of relief and walks over to him. The moonlight shines off the cuff on his bicep, drawing attention to the ugly wound again.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes." Cas doesn't even glance at where Dean's gesturing.

"Then.. what-"

"I was injured."

"Oh, so that's why you were so long."

"No. I could have come."

"What the hell, man? Were you even gonna say goodbye? I thought we were friends." Dean paces angrily.

Cas just watches him.

"Say something, you Son of a bitch!"

Looking down at his hands, Cas says, "I have been told to cease my visitations to you."

"What? By who?"

When Cas doesn't answer Dean sighs. "Okay, why?"

"I'm supposed to be observing until I reach maturity. I shouldn't be pulled into undo interactions with humanity.." He flicks his eyes up and finishes, "you."

"That's bullshit, Cas."

"Training to fight should be my main concern. Any preoccupations will impair my focus and I was allowing myself to become distracted." He recites like it's from a memorized speech.

"Dammit, Cas. If you don't wanna come anymore fine but if it's to appease some douchebag with wings then.."

"Stop, Dean. I want to spend what time I've sequestered on more pleasant topics."

"Fine.," Dean breathes through his nose, willing himself to let go of the last few months of worry and dejection. If this is one of the few times he might ever see him again, there's no use making it a bad memory. "I got you something anyway."

Dean walks towards the bed and crawls up to grab the book of fairytales. Cas followed, hopping up to walk along the footboard rail before taking his usual spot.

Several minutes later, he wishes he didn't give it to him because it's clear Cas is engrossed in it. He doesn't flip around like he normally does but just sits reading. Almost normal.

Dean tries to not be annoyed and just enjoy the fact that he had his friend here, for what time they had. Fifteen minutes later and Dean's periodic check to see if he's still reading is met with a steady blue stare.

"What?"

"Dean, would you give me a kiss?"

His mouth falls open a bit, sure he heard wrong.

"Uh.. what?" He says again, stupidly.

"In this story, a curse on the kingdom is broken by a kiss. I've read about them in the poetry of your English schoolbook as well, but they never adequately describe them."

"Um.."

"Would you give me one, please?" He asks as if it's simple.

"Cas, I can't just.." How does he explain this? He can feel his ears getting red. "I mean, how do you not know what a kiss is?"

The angel looks irritated now. "I will once you give me one," he says indignantly.

"Cas, I'm a guy.."

"I am aware of that." He furrows his brow.

"And you.. well you're a guy, kinda.."

"I don't understand why you are stating the obvious."

"Dudes don't um.. do that. Well some do, but uh I don't. And besides you usually kiss someone you like.." God this was awkward and Cas is just looking at him confused and maybe hurt. And this was probably going to be the last time he'd see him.

"Because I am male and you don't like me, it would be inappropriate?"

"No, come on, it's not like that. Of course I like you." Dean sighs exasperated. "Don't you have angel girls you can practice with?"

Cas just frowns at him.

They would be like his sisters so probably not. Well.. there's no one here to tell him not to and Cas is his friend who never asked him for anything in all the times he'd come. Dean had made out with several willing girls already, even gone a bit further and it was sad Cas didn't even seem to know what a kiss was. And if he didn't mind that Dean was a guy.. well he could do this for him. Probably.

"Alright, just this once." He says quick before he fully processes the words. "And we never talk about it."

"I understand."

"I mean never, ever."

"I said I understand, Dean."

"Okay." Dean sucks in a breath. "Right, okay." He says again. So now he was supposed to do it. He looks at Cas' dark hair sticking up everywhere, cheeks with light stubble and finally his pink dry lips. Turning to face him fully, Dean mirrors his crossed legs. Slowly, he puts his palms on the bed and leans forward.

"Dean?"

"Shh. Don't say anything." If they talked about it, he'd freak. But Cas obediently stays quiet.. watching him move ever closer, hands resting on his own knees, patiently. Dean flicks his eyes over Cas' mouth then up to his blinking eyes, looking for any hesitation but Cas just waits for him.

Their lips touch. Light. Soft. Cas gasps and he immediately pulls back to see wide blue eyes. Dean licks his lips, kinda nervous.

"That was a kiss?"

'Well yeah. A little one. What'd ya think?"

"I don't know."

Dean frowns. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"It's just- just touching mouths. Why are there songs and sonnets and stories written about it?"

"Oh so my kiss wasn't good enough for a sonnet or some shit? How many times Shakespeare offered to plant one on ya?" Dean rubs the back of his neck, annoyed and not really sure where the anger was coming from.

"You are offended. I apologize. I merely meant I don't see what-"

Dean grabs his face in both hands and fuses their mouths together hard. Cas stills but doesn't pull away as Dean focuses on blowing his stupid little angelic mind, catching his lips over and over again.. even changing up the angle mid kiss. Rough cheeks scratch under his fingers so he can't pretend it's the soft plump cheeks of a girl but he grips them tighter to turn his head where he wants it. When Cas opens his mouth to make an involuntary noise, Dean surges forward to force his tongue past those pink lips. Cas lets out a surprised moan and his hand comes up to cover one of Dean's at the side of his face. Dean smirks as Cas tentatively rubs his tongue against Dean's for a moment and decides to pulls back after what he feels is sufficiently hot to defend his honor.

Dean lets go of Cas' face to drop his hands back at his sides on the mattress. Their lips break apart only long enough for him to grab a breath. He has a cocky comment all ready but then hands are on his bent knees and Cas is leaning into him, taking over. He shifts back but Cas just follows. Now Dean's the one making a ridiculous sound in the back of his throat at the dizzy feeling spinning through him and he could swear he feels a small electric zing buzzing through him. Cas uses all his tricks back on him and well. It's too hot all of the sudden and he's so caught up with his body telling him all systems go that he doesn't realizes his elbows are bent, giving ground, until his back hits pillow.

He snaps out of his fog and pushes against a hard chest. The weight on him disappears as they separate. Cas slowly moves back to his original position and Dean sits up grabbing a pillow to cover his lap. They both pant across from each other. Dean looks at the bedspread, Cas, the floor, Cas, his hands, then back at Cas again. His face is infuriatingly blank as he watches Dean, eyes a bit bright.

He realizes he's been staring at Cas' puffy lips, slick with Dean's saliva when he finally deadpans, "I'll write you a sonnet, if necessary."

He's shocked into laughing and the tension breaks.

"Though it seems much more vigorous than-" Cas cuts himself off, turning away from his eyes but Dean caught it.

"You've seen people kissing?"

"You said we were not to speak of it so I will let you rest now." He gets up and walks towards the window.

"Dude! You totally played me. Are you telling me you knew what a kiss was all along?"

Cas looks at the ceiling and breaths out before turning back. "I might have over-exaggerated my ignorance but I wanted to experience it myself. Thank you for the instruction, Dean."

"Wait a goddamn minute.. Cas!" But he already dropped out through the window.

Bastard! He mutters but continues to stare at the window. Removing the pillow, he sees he's still hard as a rock. Pressing a heel against it, he almost cries out. Glancing at the open window again, Dean gets up to check and make sure Cas is gone, then closes the doors. Striding back to bed, he gets under the covers and pulls his cock out. Spitting in his hand, he grips it tight, pumping down fast and rough. Within a minute, he's spurting cum out over his fingers and the sheets.

Panting hard, he stares up at the ceiling, heart racing.

"Shit.." Dean breathes softly.

* * *

**Author's Note: So I'm managing to get my chapters a bit longer. Yay! Thanks for my comments guys. I love hearing your thoughts. So obviously I'm starting to earn my Mature tag. If you don't want your childhood memories further sullied with my debauched Peter Pan AU.. I would turn back now. :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Put down your pitchforks. I know I made you wait for it but ooh look it's extra long. Forgive me?**

* * *

Dean's eyes are on the white board as his elderly teacher continues writing out an impossibly long string of numbers that he's sure is supposed to mean something but damned if he knew what. It becomes a blurry background as he loses his focus for about the 8th time that class.

It didn't mean anything. It was natural to get turned on by making out. With your eyes closed.. it doesn't matter.

He remembers the second Cas had taken charge of it and started pressing back. Confident and overwhelmingly intense. Damn if he didn't catch on quick.

The teacher turns to face the class, droning on about the equation as Dean chews a pencil.

It was normal. With your eyes closed.. its all the same. Like if he was getting a blow job.. eyes shut it all probably felt the same.

He drops the pencil and it rolls off his desk. Dean looks around self-consciously like someone could hear his thoughts.

Whoa, where the hell had that come from? And now he can't not see Cas' head bent over his lap.. hair all disheveled from the wind.. or maybe from fingers grabbing it.. and pink lips all puffy and his soft, warm tongue..

The bell rings and Dean jumps. Kids file out and he slowly gets to his feet.

Pamela holds out his pencil. "Do quadratic equations turn ya on, baby?"

"Huh?" He takes it and puts it behind his ear.

She licks her lips and pointedly glances at his slightly tented jeans.

"Shit." He breathes and quickly moves his books to cover his erection.

Smiling like the cat that ate the canary, she says, "Heard you and Barbie are splitsville? Since I dumped that ass, Jesse, I've been awfully lonely."

Dean eyes her up and down. Tight Ramones tank top, faded black jeans and belt with pyramid studs.. she'd probably eat him alive. "Oh, yeah?" This was not exactly the time he wanted to have this talk with his boner already on display.

"Come find me if you wanna hang out sometime.. we could talk fractions and decimal points." She waggles her eyebrows suggestively before brushing past him, making sure to take extra long. Dean inhales, trying to keep any part of him from touching her further. Breathing out raggedly, he heads to lunch.

Walking through the courtyard, he sees Charlie sitting under a tree eating a sandwich. Dean changes his direction and heads her way.

"Hey."

"Sup Winchester. How goes it?"

"You mind company?"

"My tree is your tree."

He sits down beside her. "Want half a PB&J?"

"Sure. Thanks." He takes it and they eat, enjoying the sun with the cooler air making it nice out.

Dean clears his throat and says, "So..Just slap me if this is off limits.."

"Oh, I get to slap you? You live dangerously." She turns to him smiling.

Dean rolls his eyes. "When did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That you were.."

"C'mon use your big boy words." She grins taking another bite.

"That you were into girls."

"Since I was 6 and saw Return of the Jedi."

Dean eyebrows pinch together.

"Slave Leia in a gold bikini."

"Oh right." He glances down at his last bite of sandwich. Charlie watches him over her can of diet coke before taking a sip.

"But ya know.. I bet most people take longer."

Dean twists his lips and nods. "And you don't ever look twice at guys?"

"Well.. I mean if Johnny Depp came up to me and just had to have his way with me.. I probably wouldn't turn him down but otherwise not really."

"How'd your mom take it?"

"She.. Fine."

Dean's seen a lot of Charlie's smiles but this one didn't seem right. "She just-"

"So anyway who's this Cas?" Charlie talks over him quickly. Dean stutters, "Who?"

"Your mom thought I was someone named Cas. Is that like.. a friend?"

"Yeah, he's a friend."

"Oh." She nods her head with raised eyebrows and wide eyes.

"What?" Even to him it sounds defensive.

"Nothing. So you wanna try to make it to World 5 in Mario later?"

"Uh, sure. Are you gonna cheat again?"

"It's entirely possible."

Dean's rushing to World History when he turns a corner and runs straight into a solid wall in the shape of a suit. Shuffling back, he sees it's actually a man with a barrel chest. Bald, Black and looking down his nose at him.

"Dean Winchester."

"Uh, yeah?"

Was this a new teacher? Why did he know his name?

Suddenly, he's grabbed by the collar of his shirt and slammed into a set of lockers. Dean winces when his head hits.

"You will stop encouraging Castiel."

"What?! Who the hell are you?"

Kids laugh and rush by, seeming not to notice their little scene.

"Watch your tone, Mud Monkey. I'm the one who's going to turn you into dust if you continue your association with the angel."

A locks digs into his back. He'd scream but Dean can't get a breath with the beefy hand around his throat squeezing. He squirms futilely trying to draw attention but no one even pauses as they pass them.

"I suggest you be a good little Neanderthal and heed my words."

He's pulled forward by the neck just to be slammed back-

Dean jerks in his seat, making a short yell and the class laughs.

"Bad dream, Mr. Winchester?" His World History teacher says smoothly.

Blinking and realizing where he is, Dean tries to make a joke to cover his embarrassment. "The worse. I was in World History and.. Oh wait."

After the class calms down, the teacher says, "Very amusing. Perhaps you can tell your jokes to the principle after class."

Dean internally groans and sinks down in his seat. Awesome.

He gets a detention and catches Charlie after the bell to let her know he won't be able to meet up. When he gets home, his mom predictably grounds him and Dean sulks in his room most of the evening.

It's late and he's doing English homework, books open on the bed, when Cas steps down off his windowseat.

"Uh, Hey." He looks up, surprised to see him again so soon or even at all.

"Hello, Dean." Cas comes towards him and then is just sitting on the bed across from him. Like nothing happened.

Fuck. He really wasn't expecting to have to deal with seeing him again today.

"Weren't you ordered away or something?" He catches a snippet of his weird dream for a second but lets it go when Cas positively smirks and says, "I was. I am being disobedient."

Dean's eyebrows raise and he ignores the pulse in his jeans. Cas almost looks mischievous.

"Ain't that gonna get you in trouble?"

He just shrugs and picks up Dean's English book, turning it towards him.

Seriously, they were just going to sit here and not talk about it. Which is good. Right. Don't say anything. Stop thinking about it. It was a one time thing. Cas was just curious and Dean.. helped. Why should it be weird now? Cas looked the same. Acted the same. Stop thinking about it.

He dragged his eyes from Cas' mouth to his arm. The nasty slice seemed to be closing and healing over even though it had only been a day.

"So your uh wound looks better." His arm was up and hovering between them before he remembered last time.

"You can touch me, if you want."

Dean traces it with his finger tip. It's less ragged than before.

"Why can't you just heal it?"

"It was made with a weapon I am not impervious to."

"What happened?"

"Dean.."

"Who I am gonna tell?"

"It's for your own protection."

"Yeah, whatever."

Dean takes back his English book and turns it around to fake reading it. They're quiet for a while until Cas says, "I've never had a friend before, Dean." He lowers the book to see Cas is not facing him. "I would not want to place you in danger. I have only ever had my brothers and sisters. Rarely among my own kind have I found those I share an affinity with. And after.." His eyebrows wedge together and he takes a deep breath. "After Anna.." He doesn't say anything else and after another minute Dean sets the book next to him and scoots a little closer.

"Cas, who's Anna?"

He doesn't answer, just continues to stare off to the left.

"She the one who left?"

"Yes." One word but it's filled with worlds of loss. "After that.. I didn't.. I never.. I'm not very good at communicating."

It was plain weird to see him fumbling like this. So unsure.

"You do all right." Dean gives him a small smile when Cas looks up to meet his eyes.

"It is strange that I am able to connect with a human better than my own brethren."

"Eh, you just can't resist the Winchester Charm." He laughs cockily, but Cas only stares until the moment stretches and his words hang in the air. Soon he's staring at Cas' mouth and remembering when his lips were swollen and slick. It's too much to be sitting on his bed like this.. just like last night. He's starting to feel flustered. Restless. Itchy.

"Hey, you wanna get outta here?"

"You want me to leave?"

"No, I mean.. I'd go with you."

"Where would you want to go?"

"Anywhere. Just outside somewhere. Get some fresh air."

"There is a clearing not far from here in the woods."

"Awesome."

Dean gets up and slips into his boots. After bending to lace them up, he goes to grab his flannel from his closet. Cas is behind him, too close and Dean immediately backs up, facing him.

"Oh uh, I'll just sneak out downstairs."

"You do not want to fly?"

Fly, yes. Have Cas pressed tight against him…

"Dean, I'll still need to take you to the clearing. It's too great a distance for you to walk."

Dammit. Why had he thought this would be better? He just needed to get outside where he could breathe. Where he could think.

"Yeah alright." He sighs and steps up on the sill, bracing his arms on the frame. Dean closes his eyes when arms encircle his torso and Cas doesn't hesitate or ask if he's ready this time. He pushes forward and they're off.  
Soon Dean forgets about feeling awkward and just revels in the cool night air beating at his face. Within minutes his feet are touching earth and Cas lets him go, stepping back to sit cross-legged in the grass. That wasn't so bad.. maybe he was the one making it weird.

"Is this adequate?"

"Yeah, this works." He sits near the angel with his legs stretched out, arms straight a little behind his back to bare his weight.

The sky was wide and went on forever above them. You could see thousands and thousands of lights, burning little pinpricks. Breeze ruffles the leaves and Dean sits up to fold his arms. Cas doesn't even react, even with his arms bare and stark pale in the moonlight and feet buried in the cool grass.

"You guys don't get cold either?"

Cas turns and frowns at his hunched posture. He leans forward and Dean jerks back thinking he's going to try and kiss him again but instead he's surrounded by a familiar softness. Even over the barrier of his sleeves, it's a light weight encircling him. The wind abruptly cuts off, as if there's a force field around his body. He's actually warm now but he still shivers when the phantom feathers cocooning him touch the back of his neck. Dean enjoys the pleasant sensation of being wrapped up in a soft bubble for a few more seconds before shrugging his shoulders.

"Thanks but um.. just keep your wings to yourself, kay?"

Cas rolls his shoulders and the warmth leaves him, but he still tingles where they touched his cheek and neck. Hearing the shuffle of invisible wings, Dean asks, "Hey Cas, can I see you fly? I mean, you're always just there. I wanna see.." He looks up and realized he moved closer when he was talking. "Nevermind."

Cas cocks his head and they just stare for what feels like too long. Yep, this was way better, Dean thought sarcastically.

Without a word, Cas gets to his feet. Sparing a moment to glance down at Dean, he then points his face up at the stars and bends his knees like he's about to jump but when he kicks off the ground.. his bare feet don't land again.

Dean watches open mouthed as Cas glides lithely through the air, climbing higher and higher only to arch his back and dive backwards. Down he plummets right at him before swooping so close that Dean feels feathers touch his ear when he flies by.

"Whoa.." Dean's mouth falls open.

If he squints he can almost imagine he sees darks shapes pushing him forward or maybe it's his brain filling in the missing piece for him. Cas' back muscles and shoulder blades work and roll in a way he's not used to seeing on any human. After a few more minutes of what Dean's sure is showing off at this point, Cas' feet touch the ground and he walks a few feet before he can slow his momentum to stop in front of him again.

Dean gapes up at him with wide eyes as he breathes slow and even out.

"You watch me as if this is some feat but I assure you it is not."

"Cas, no. You're fucking amazing."

Cas just holds his gaze until Dean blushes and looks off. "Really, though. You're all graceful and shit." Laughing, he finishes, "I'd make a sucky angel. Probably bump into my window like a fly."

"I think you would be a beautiful angel."

Dean grins but rolls his eyes. "Dudes don't call each other beautiful, Cas.. but thanks."

He's focused on him with such intensity.. not saying anything else so Dean gets to his feet, talking nervously to fill the silence.

"So you're training or whatever all the time, right? Teach me a move or something."

Castiel seems taken back and says, "We use blades made of grace to spar. You would not be able to fight as we do."

"You started off trying to stick each other? That's one hell of a learning curve."

Cas' bunched eyebrows smooth and he says, "When I was younger, my brothers would make a game of attempting to subdue one another as practice. I could show you how to attack as they did."

"Okay, what'll we do?"

"They would engage in combat mid-air. The first to be grounded and say Tootsie Pop was the defeated."

Dean's still laughing when he asks, "Tootsie Pop?"

"It is my brother's rule. I don't know what it means."

"It's candy. I'll bring you one. Alright, well no flying. That's cheating."

"But that is how I would fight, Dean. I would never allow myself to be weakened by staying in one place while an enemy attacks me."

"Yeah well pretend your pixie dust ran out and you're stuck on the ground."

Cas frowns but stays put, toes curling in the grass. "First, you must always be moving."

Dean starts walking backwards as the angel moves towards him.

"Hold up. Obviously I won't be able to take you on in a straight fight."

Cas pauses. "What do you suggest, then?"

"My watch has a stopwatch button. Maybe.. see if I can keep on my feet for five minutes?"

"Very well."

Looking up from hitting the clock, Dean winces at the glint in his eye. "You're gonna knock me on my ass, aren't you?"

"Only if you let me." Cas says beginning to walk forward again. Dean's heartbeat picks up and he watches him as he moves backwards again.

"Sparring, we are taught never to allow an opponent to entrap or surround us. Try to shove me away from you to keep your distance. If I am able to get too close, you would be defeated. My wings can wrap tight to hold you in place or my flight feathers can lacerate deep if the edges are whipped hard enough."

Feeling a brush against his cheek, Dean bats it away with the back of his hand. Cas smirks at him as he takes a few threatening steps closer. Dean quickly focuses on keeping space between them again.

"Man, this is a kinda like when Yoda-"

Cas strikes quick, grabbing him by the wrist and turning so his own arm is painfully twisted in front of him and his back is up against a hard chest.

"Pay attention." Cas says in his ear from behind him, amusement evident in his voice.

Breathing unsteady, Dean grunts as he elbows him, spinning away at the same time.

Cas lets him and calmly starts to circle him. Dean keeps him in his sights, turning with him. Cas is playing with him, hardly looking at him. His heart is hammering in his chest but he's pretty sure he's about to win this thing by running out the clock.

Dean makes the mistake of checking his watch to see he still has a minute left when Cas snatches his arm and kicks his feet out from under him. Cas has a knee on his chest and simply waits.

"You know what to say." He seems positively smug.

Cas has him on the ground but Dean's strong too. He grips his upper arms and pushes up to force Cas off to fall next to him. They roll a few times but Cas still ends up on top sitting on his thighs. Dean grunts and struggles as Cas manages to knock his hands away easily and get them pinned to the grass by his head.

Staring up at his steady blue eyes, they gasp for breath and with horror, Dean realizes during all the wrestling around.. he's gotten hard. Cas has to feel it and is probably disgusted if he even realizes what it is.

"Tootsie pop," Dean pants.

Cas only tilts his head just a fraction.

"I said Tootsie-"

He's cut off by Cas' lips catching his. Dean's surprise is overwhelmed by the talented tongue sweeping in to brush with his over and over again. Shit, he was a quick learner. Cas moves down to suck and nip at his bottom lip.. something Dean hadn't taught him.

Lost in the moment, Dean's lifts his head up, trying to reconnect their mouths when Cas pulls back to ask, "How do I make the marks?" before kissing him again. The words don't even make sense to Dean's foggy brain. Could he have been kissed stupid?

"Huh?"

"The marks. Have you made them before? Would you show me, Dean?" Cas asks on his hands and knees above him, caging his body. His palms are in the grass by Dean's head.. which means he's free. Has been, he realizes. Cas had long since let go of his wrists but Dean had kept his arms as if they'd still been pinned. He can move now. He has to move now. Move, dammit.

Dean snaps out of his haze and sucks in a breath.

"Cas, this is wrong." He sits up on elbows first and then scoots back along the grass until he's sitting across from him. Cas just watches.

"Why?"

Why? Christ, he's so turned on it's hard to think.

"We can't just keep doing this."

"I find kissing you to be very pleasurable and I'm told this is natural."

That's what he'd been telling himself all day.. but it wasn't natural. This wasn't normal. Not for him anyway. Dean huffs, realizing his pants are tented and shifts around so he's facing away, embarrassed by his arousal and the conversation.

"Dean?"

"Just give me a goddamn minute, okay?" He barks, covering his front with a hand, waiting for his erection to go down.

"Why would you be ashamed of what is a normal bodily function for humans?"

Dean glares over his shoulder. "Oh don't go saying humans like you don't have wood either."

Cas frowns in confusion.

"You're.." he gestures vaguely towards Cas' groin. "..hard."

Cas looks down then back up to meet his eyes steadily. "I haven't said I was otherwise." He blinks and blushes when he realizes he'd been staring at the criss-cross of black cord and Cas was just letting him. Dean turns away again so he stops looking towards the bulge straining tight in leather.

Jesus. This is crazy. And stupid. Crazy, stupid and fucked up but it's been months since he'd been all hot n' heavy with anyone, besides Cas the previous night, and with the kiss still so fresh..

Dean mentally shakes himself. He's just worked up.

"You can't kiss me anymore, okay? And I definitely can't freaking mark you or whatever. Kisses, hickeys.. all on the let's never go there again list. Got it?"

Cas furrows his brow and presses his lips but Dean has to get it all out so he understands.

"Look, this is stuff people who.. it's personal and.. Can't we just go back to how it was before?"

Castiel turns away from him with one arm hooked around a bent leg. "My apologizes if I made you uncomfortable. I mistakenly believed you enjoyed kissing me as well."

Dean doesn't correct him but looks down guiltily.

"And I will attempt to find another human to educate me on the other matter."

"Cool yeah, it's just- wait what?"

Cas is racking his fingers through the grass, still not facing him. "My brother assures me I am not unappealing to your kind and would be able to find an enthusiastic human to show me these things."

That.. irritates him. Which is dumb since it should be exactly what he wants.

"Aren't you supposed to be observing or some shit? Why would your bro give you this pro human pep talk?" Dean air quotes observing with sarcasm.

"A few of my brothers have less conventional views on interacting with humanity. While my exchanges have been limited, I have no doubt I will be successful in finding a willing partner."

"Oh." Dean frowns hard at the ground.

After neither of them speaks for a while, Cas turns back suddenly and asks, "How is your friend, Charlie?"

"Um.. fine.. so when you say you're gonna go find a human.."

"Yes, Dean?"

"Well I mean isn't that a little less than angelic. Trolling for chicks and-"

"I am reasonably certain I would prefer a male human for this purpose."

"Right.." Dean breathes out. Well that wasn't totally unexpected. Then he suddenly can't get a slide show of sordid images out of his head.. Cas in an alley behind a club with some twink guy in eyeliner and tight jeans being all aggressive with him. Would Cas want someone like that? It leaves a bad taste in his mouth and he's flat not paying attention when he asks about Sam or something.

Dean interrupts him mid sentence with, "Look, Cas if you just want someone to show you.." He trails not knowing how to finish. Cas stops and raises his eyebrows. "I mean, I don't want you to have to go somewhere else and get hurt or something." Who else would get Cas' odd ways and be as patient.

He gets a condescending look. "I'm an angel, Dean. A mere human would not be able to harm me."

Dean chews on his lip, irked by this blurry mental creation of some guy corrupting Cas. Taking advantage of his naiveté and..

"Yeah well I don't want you to.. to have to go to someone you don't know. We're friends and if all you want is for me to give you a hickey.." Never would he have thought he'd be sitting here with sweaty palms offering to suck on another dude's neck.

"Are you sure?"

What would it take.. a minute, two tops? Without kissing it was just sucking on someone's neck. It'd probably be awkward as hell and he'd feel a little ridiculous but without making out, it wouldn't be all hot. He'd just do it fast so Cas would get the gist of it.

Cas' eyes dart over his face.. he's probably red as a tomato.. before asking, "Can you not pretend that I am her? The one that previously left your marks.. just to show me?"

It wasn't the worst idea and his dick sure wasn't objecting. Yeah he'd just close his eyes and imagine Amanda.

He swallows and says, "You'd be up for that?"

"I wouldn't mind if it would make you more comfortable." He crawls back towards Dean who puts out a hand on his chest to stop him. Cas waits for Dean to decide.

Finally, Dean lowers his hand and gruffly gets out, "Just so you can learn.." He exhales a little shakily. This felt like an excuse, like an out. His cock is throbbing now, but he tries to ignore it.

In truth, Amanda never liked him leaving hickeys because she said she didn't want to look like a leopard for three days. Though on him she sure didn't mind.

Dean scoots forward on the grass as Cas slides that little bit closer to sit next to him, facing the other way. Almost hip to hip.

Then he just waits.

"Um okay.."

Stop talking. Jesus. Should he just start? Just.. attack his neck? At school in the supply closet it usually came after lots of kissing first but he's not even gonna touch that idea. That was too intimate and too real.

Dean takes a breath and dips his head towards Cas' neck, trying not to touch him anywhere else. He opens his mouth and closes his lips over the hollow there and Cas shudders a second. Feeling skittish, he pauses but hears, "Please continue."

Dean does. Before he can stop himself he says, "God, you're so freaking warm." He burrows into his neck to tongue over where his pulse is beating quick. And hey angels have pulses. Well if they got boners, they must have blood pumping and.. Stop thinking! Gripping his chin, Dean turns his head away to give himself more space. He starts sucking a little when he licks now. Cas inhales sharply but doesn't otherwise move. Dean's tongue suddenly tingles a little when it touches skin like he's licked an outlet or something. He pulls back and licks his lips.

Cas turns to him. "Did you do it already?"

"What? Oh, lemme see."

Cas faces away again to bare his neck. Moonlight hits it to show a faint redness and saliva but that's it.

"Nothin' yet."

"Please continue then, Dean."

"Alright but it's kinda awkward like this."

Without getting into Cas' lap he couldn't exactly get a good angle. And that was so not happening. His back was starting to ache from bending.

"What do you suggest?"

Dean looks past him and gets up. "Maybe standing?" He points to a huge tree with a wide trunk several feet away. Castiel walks past him and Dean follows until they're both just looking at each other. Geez, this was so weird.

"Okay.. uh, can you stand um against it?"

Cas simply moves back not breaking eye contact. He can hear his wings shifting while the leaves on low hanging branches shake above them. He settles with his back against bark.

Dean huffs out in embarrassment and fidgets.

"Please, Dean."

"Yeah, okay." He gestures for Cas to turns his head then he moves closer until he can reach his neck and yes this felt easier… more like what he was used to. More like Amanda.

He slides up, reaching with his mouth and their chests press together. He spares a moment to compare Cas' hard lean muscles to a girl's soft flesh but then he latches on again. Dean briefly imagines one of their hotter sessions when he'd had her against the wall kinda like this. He sucks Cas' warm skin between his teeth and worries it, best to get this done quick already. Arms come up to grip his shoulders and he gets a shot of pride when Cas starts his deep little gasps. It's a weird power trip making a freaking angel react this way. God, he sounds all hot and needy.. Stop! Don't think about it. He pulls harder with his lips on his neck for another minute or so, Cas' head falling even further back to touch the bark and expose more skin.

This was so fucked up but it was really turning him on. He bites down and Cas jerks against him, feet sliding in the dirt as he pushes his back up, writhing in place. He can feel his stiff dick through the leather but he refuses to think about anything below the belt; especially since his own cock is straining his jeans.

Pulling back, he inspects his handy work. It's red, almost purple.. would definitely leave the mark Cas wanted. That's all he'd had to do. Cas' eyes are closed and he's breathing hard. He opens them and begins in a wrecked voice, "Is it- "

"It could be darker." Dean cuts him off, voice hoarse .

Quickly cupping his jaw to push his head aside again, he goes back to licking and biting gently against his jugular.

Just a little bit longer. A little bit more.

He gets a zing of warm energy against his tongue that he's starting to associate with Cas. And this. It drives him further when the current pulses straight to his cock.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Dean moves his right hand up to bury fingers in his short messy hair then clenches them tight. Cas doesn't tell him to stop, not like Amanda (that he's supposed to be thinking about). Instead he fucking moans impossibly low. Biting down hard on his neck he yanks again and Cas' hands fist in the back of his shirt so hard he hears a rip.

When Dean feels like he might choke on arousal, he finally pulls back to see a large, dark purple blemish. He only glimpses it for a second before Cas flips them so Dean's against the tree, the air knocked out of him.

Gasping, he asks, "What are you-"

"I want to practice what I've learned."

"Cas-"

But he's already bending forward, knocking Dean's cheek aside with his head, stubble scrapping along his jaw. It was never this rough with anyone. Or desperate. And fuck did it feel amazing.. so easy to get caught up in. But he had to stop this. It had already gone on too long. Gone too far. He was supposed to be pretending this was a chick and it was getting damn hard to do when he could feel another dude's dick starting to rub just close enough to his for him to think about changing angles.

Cas starts off gentle, softly rubbing lips right where Dean had on him.. then licks and drags his teeth over the spot like a goddamn tease. Dean rolls his eyes up, staring at leaves, and blows out a puff of air so he didn't make an embarrassing noise.

"We- we should stop." Why is he heaving like he ran a mile?

Castiel only hums in what might be agreement against his skin.

"Cas, you- Fuck!"

He'd shifted just right so their dicks were rubbing together. Dean grabbed the tree behind him with both hands down by his sides so he didn't cling onto Cas and start writhing against his body. Cas stilled, just breathing over the wet spot in the crook between his shoulder and neck. It sent shivers down his spine but Dean made himself keep from moving.

"We..we.." Dammit there was a sentence in there somewhere.

Cas presses into him tighter, cupping the back of his neck and at the same time mouthing it hotly.

"Jesus.." He sighs grabbing Cas' bare arms because he couldn't not. He needed something to hang onto. His bicep flexes under Dean's fingers as the hand on his neck moves to grip the back of his head. In a million years, he'd never have thought this was something a guy would like.. or even should like but when Cas pulled his hair so close to his scalp and bit down at the same time.. he almost came in his jeans right there.

"Cas!" He yelled out, bucking his hips to make some friction. Cas repeated the motion back at him while he held him pinned.

"O god.." Dean's eyes shut tight while his fingers dig into the pale flesh of angel arms. He tried at least to grab high up above his wound, above the silver cuff.

There was no way in hell he would tell him to stop now. He was so close. He'd never actually gone so far as to come with someone but he's not thinking about that now. And he's not thinking about Amanda either.. or any girls he's been with or what his dad, who makes colorful jokes about guys that do exactly what he's doing, would think.

All there is, is the hot little noises Cas is making and the pulling and biting and open mouth kissing at his neck and fingers clenched in his hair, a flat chest holding him in place, a stiff outline thrusting up and down over him. Pressure and friction and tension reaching its peak.

"Dean.. I.." Cas' guttural voice hitches in his ear.

"I know. It's okay." Dean gasps.

"I'm.." He makes a sound like a whine and shoves hard all at once, pressing Dean into the tree with his whole body. Dean's head lolls back, his mouth fall opens as he cries out. All he hears is white noise and he feels weightless as the good feelings rolls through him.

They stay tight together as each of them finishes their release and when his feet touch the ground, Dean realizes they were a few feet above the grass. Cas slumps so his forehead rests on Dean's shoulder before bracing his arms on either side of Dean's head to push back away from him. Dean opens his eyes to meet his sluggish gaze.

"That.. That was.."

"Not supposed to happen." Dean finishes grimly.

Cas face closes down, the awe seeping away as he tilts his head.

"You are angry."

"No shit, Sherlock." Dean shoves him back so he's free to walk away. The house is probably three miles away but he just heads in that direction. His pants are stained and wet, a further reminder of what just happened.  
Cas is next to him in an instant, easily keeping up with his quick stride.

"I don't understand. You seemed.." Cas trails off.

Dean turns angrily to see him staring at his neck while absently touching his own with a fingertip. Now that the endorphins had started to fade, he could feel the sore spot. Dean reaches up to press at it and winces.

"Goddamit, did you have to go Count Dracula on me?" He studiously avoids looking at Cas' neck with his own ridiculously large hickey.

"I apologize." He says not looking the least bit apologetic. "I will improve with more practice."

Dean stops walking and Cas turns towards him.

"There won't be any practicing. I know you don't get this and maybe it's different for barefoot virgins with wings but once you go so far.. it's really hard to just stop and.. and it's just not gonna happen again, okay?"

"Dean, why are you so agitated?"

"Because this isn't me!" He gestures angrily back at the tree. "I'm not into dudes." He holds up a hand when Cas is going to say something. "Or dudes with halos. This?" He catches a glance at Cas' pants and blushes. "This is not alright." He starts walking again.

"Okay, Dean." He hears back behind him a ways.

Turning, he sees Cas hadn't followed him. "Okay? What does that mean?"

"It was never my intent to distress you. I had thought... It's not important. I would not wish to make you regret our time together. Or me. If you would prefer, I will discontinue my visitations."

Dean walks away. Then stops again and sighs through his nose. Finally he growls at the sky and turns back.

"No, I don't want that but no more of that big doe-eyed teach-me-how-to-kiss crap. I'm onto you."

Cas gives him a small sheepish smile. "Do I detect a note of forgiveness?"

Dean sighs again and says, "Yeah, whatever. I guess."

"Do you want me to take you home now?"

With the reminder of what Cas' closeness did to him still cooling uncomfortably in his jeans, he just shakes his head.

"Let's walk."

After a while, Dean can feel Cas glancing at him from his side as they walk.

"Stop it."

Cas does. Then a minute later, turns towards him again.

"What now?"

"Did I do well?"

"Are you seriously asking for a pat on the head?"

"I am not aware of how these interchanges usually culminate."

Dean rolls his eyes and isn't going to answer but he hears the slight note of uncertainty at the end.

"Considering the uncomfortable walk back we're enjoying.. yeah I'd say you did pretty damn good."

Cas dropped him back inside his window and stood on the sill while Dean stepped down inside and turned to him.

"Goodnight, Dean."

He still wore a shy smile even after they spent thirty minutes walking in silence.

"Yeah night, Cas." Dean says turning his back on him.

He didn't want to see his swollen lips and bruised neck and stained.. Well they apparently weren't stained anymore but he didn't want to see any of it. Didn't want to be reminded of his own lack of control.

Cas left with him still turned away and Dean was a little relieved. Yeah it was kinda cowardly but he felt anything but brave while he unbuttoned his wet pants to change.

He'd prayed and asked Cas to give him some space for a few days. Three days later and Cas hadn't shown up. Dean found himself being glad to avoid the issue one moment then annoyed the next. Annoyed at Cas for putting this crap into this head and himself for thinking about it too often.

He kept his jacket collar up but his mom still asked him if Charlie might want to come to dinner sometime. He doesn't bother telling her again that Charlie isn't his girlfriend because then she might want to know more about the person he was letting making a plum-sized lovebite on his neck.

It only makes him more shameful but every once in a while he touches it and gets lost in the memory of rutting against the hard line of Cas' body. An unyielding, steady pressure. Grabbing Cas' arms. His rough cheek nuzzling..

Mary yanks him out of staring at his empty window one evening to go take the trash out. Groaning, he gets up and goes downstairs. Snatching the full bag up in stride, Dean tosses it in the trashcan, then drags it to the road since tomorrow is trash day. As he turns away, he catches something out of the corner of his eye down the road. Dean squints till he sees it's a little girl on a bike.. the kind with a basket and streamers on the handlebars.

It's weird to see a kid so young out near nighttime on their road when the houses are so far apart.

She's close enough to see she's wearing a pale pink dress with puffy sleeves. Yikes, someone's mom needs to step into this decade. Her long blonde hair whips behind her as she smiles big when she passes him.

"Hi, Mister!" She waves. Dean frowns but waves back.

She continues to smile and turn back to watch him until she's out of sight.

Dean shakes his head and walks back toward the house.

Geez, what a creepy kid.

* * *

**Author's Note: So my hand slipped and I accidentally wrote some sexiness. I fail at slow burns. *hangs head***


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: I really enjoyed you all freaking out about a certain little girl. Who knew an innocent kid riding her bike could cause such alarm and distrust? **

* * *

"_Heaven… I'm in Heaven_"

Dean rolls over and burrows deeper in his pillow.

"_And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak_"

Huh? He blinks and opens an eye.

"_And I seem to find that happiness I seek_"

Dean lifts his head off the pillow and stares at his open window as a raspy voice finishes low and cheerful.

"_When we're out together.. dancing cheek to cheek_"

He frowns and pushes up on his forearms to listen. At first, Dean had thought he might have been hearing the vestiges of a dream but there it is. The melody continues as a faint humming outside just under the sound of the wind rustling the leaves. Slowly getting out of bed, Dean walks around the window to his wall first, then slides along it quietly until he grabs the frame of one of the opens doors and peeks out.

There's a man. Just sitting on their swingset.. like he isn't in someone's backyard, a mile from anyone else. Dean can't see his face because his head is bent, but has short grey hair, thin arms that grip the chains, and a white dress shirt with sleeves rolled up even though it's chilly. He still hums happily in time with the creak of the swing. When he pauses and looks up right at him, Dean quickly ducks back out of sight.

This is stupid. It's just some drunk guy that wandered into the backyard. Why does he feel like a scared little kid? He should just go tell his dad. Or maybe go and tell him to leave himself.. or just go back to bed. Why does he feel like hiding under it instead?

There's only the sound of the swing for a minute.

Dean slowly sneaks around the corner again.

The swing is empty but still swaying steadily, the breeze helping it along. Dean swallows and darts his eyes all around the backyard. He looks straight down and to leans out to peer along the sides of the house. There's nothing. As if there had always been nothing. As if there wasn't just some weird guy on his little brother's swingset. He shivers then feels a bit ridiculous.. but if he was drunk, where did he come from? Why would he be all the way out here so far from the center of town?

Dammit, he can't get the creepy melody out of his head now. Dean takes one last look around then crosses his room and goes downstairs. He hesitates only a few seconds on the second floor, debating whether to wake his dad, then continues on to the bottom floor. Dean checks the locks and windows but doesn't catch sight of anyone. When he's at the backdoor, he pulls aside the curtain and watches the vacant swing shift only slightly now with the wind.

After several more minutes of craning his neck to stare at the shadows of the yard, he turns and walks quietly back up the stairs.

Well, whoever the guy was he was gone now.

He checks again from his bedroom window but he's gone. Unsettled, Dean closes the doors and latches them for the first time in a long while. He gets into bed and tries to forget about the voice singing in the dark.

The next morning, Dean meant to tell his dad about it but he slept through his alarm. With all the frantic shuffling of throwing on whatever clothes were bundled on his floor and grabbing his bookbag, he barely had time to grab a poptart and yell bye as he ran for the bus.

That evening his dad doesn't come home until late and Dean's already in bed, trying to fall asleep when he hears the Impala's rumble. He'll tell him about their late night visitor tomorrow.

Charlie had been out of school for the last few days so when she jumps next to him at his locker he smiles big. "Hey! Where ya been?" He throws the extra books in his locker before slamming it shut.

"Still under house arrest, Winchester?" She says, not answering the question.

"Yeah, looks like. Maybe by the weekend I'll be free." He swings his backpack over his shoulder and turns to her.

"Whoa." She pulls at Dean's collar to get a better look. Dammit, he'd already been through this with Benny who'd slapped him on the back with male pride and Amanda who'd glared coolly every time she passed him in the halls. He'd forgotten Charlie hadn't seen him since last Friday. Cas' hickey was definitely an eye-catcher and conversation starter.

He tries to knock her hand loose but she persists, laughing. "Man, did someone punch you in the neck?"

"Ha. Ha."

"Were you attacked by a zombie?"

"Shut up, Charlie."

"Did you fall on a doorknob?"

Dean smirks and rolls his eyes. Walking past her, he heads towards the buses.

"Was it Cas?"

Dean stops. Eyes big, he just stares ahead not really seeing all the people rushing by. Charlie knew Cas was a guy..

When she walks ahead of him and turns so she can see him, he doesn't know what he looks like but she reaches out and grabs his hand. The hallway is almost empty and he can't think of a thing to say.

She quickly starts, "I mean I know it's absolutely none of my-"

"Why would you ask that?" He gulps the extra saliva in his mouth and jerks his hand away. "Not.. not everyone's like you, ya know. Just because you're gay.. doesn't goddamn mean I am, ok?! Just stop.. I mean.. Just leave me the hell alone!"

Charlie doesn't walk away pissed off and Dean doesn't storm off like he meant to. She just grabs the straps of her backpack and shifts a little in place from foot to foot.

"It's okay if it was. And if it wasn't. I just wanted you to know.. In case you didn't." Dean frowns at the floor, not able to meet her eyes. After an long awkward pause he hears, "So you wanna ride? I think the buses left while we were having our after school special moment." She smiles tentatively at him when he looks up.

"Uh, I guess, " he mumbles. When she turns away, he follows her out to the parking lot without another word between them. He opens his mouth a dozen times but nothing comes out and the radio fills the silence. They're almost home when he blurts out, "It was."

Charlie doesn't react with a loud gasp and driving them off the road like he imagines the revelation should make her. She just smiles at him then turns her eyes back to the road.

For some reason, he thought the moment he admitted to someone else that he'd been.. close with a guy would be more earth-shattering. He didn't tell her he was an angel or that he took Dean flying or anything so big but just saying this felt like the biggest thing he would ever say.

The moment passed and he felt less like he might hyperventilate and it felt kinda okay. Charlie dropped him off and they didn't talk anymore about it. She just stuck her head out the window and told him to be on extra special good behavior because this weekend the Ghost Castle was goin' down and they were getting their princess back.

Dean actually laughed at her serious game face. She got the same look when she talked about Legend of Zelda. Charlie had kinda a thing for rescuing damsels in distress.

When he got upstairs and fell on his bed, he put his hands behind his head and starts to wonder what Cas was doing right now. It's still light out. Would he come to him if he prayed now or wait till night? Or take a few days? Or maybe not at all. Dean wouldn't even look at him after he'd left that night. Cas has been smiling off and on the whole walk back afterwards. He probably hadn't ever done something like that before.. and Dean had just told him to go and not come back. That he needed space from him.

Dean rubs his face and digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, groaning. Why was this getting so complicated? He didn't like guys. He never looked twice at any of his friends or anything. Never had this pain behind his sternum when he thought about someone. Why was this different? Why was Cas different? He could tell himself it was the oddity of an angel.. the wings all of it but it wasn't that. He had long been comfortable with Cas, talking to him just like he was another friend that happened to hang out in his room late at night. How do they go back to being friends when he knew what it felt like to have him shaking against him as he orgasms?

Dean rolls onto his stomach and buries his face in the pillow. What was he supposed to do now?

His mom comes in and sighs from the doorway. You're not sleeping all day, get up. We're taking Sam to the park.

"Alright." He pushes up from the bed.

"And Ellen and Jo are meeting us there."

Dean winces and drops back down. "Yeah maybe I'll stay here."

"Why?" Mary narrows her eyes with her hands on her hips.

"Jo hates me."

"She does not hate you. She's just going through a tough time."

"I really need to start on that English essay."

"You're coming." His mom says with finality. "She needs a friend and some fresh air will do you good."

He groans and drags his feet all the way to the car. After a short ride, they get to the park and Sam immediately squirms until Mary lets him down to race towards the playground. He only stumbles twice but bounces right back up.

Dean smiles and walks after him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ellen and Jo heading his mom's way. Maybe he could get by with playing with Sam and Jo would just stay with her mom.

He grabs Sam under the arms and lifts him up to hold onto the monkey bars. "I'm-a monkey, Dean!"

"Yeah, you look like one, Sammy." Sam tries to kick backwards at him so he leaves him hanging to try and cross them by himself.

"Dean!"

"Come on, you got this." Sam huffs and swings forward to grab the next one.

"Hey, Dean." Jo says, appearing next to him. He glances over and sees his mom on a bench with Ellen, talking. Great.

"Hey, Jo." He offers, without enthusiasm.

"Sorry, they wanted to talk so you're stuck with me."

He smiles attempting for polite but probably hitting awkward. He goes back to watching Sam's progress.

"And um sorry for yelling at you last time.. again."

"Eh, don't worry about it. I'm getting used to it."

Sam reaches the end of the monkey bars and Dean catches him up to spin around before setting him back on the ground. He squeals and takes off a little unsteadily towards the slides.

Folding his arms, Dean leans against the swings. He remembers the guy in his backyard when Jo sits on one and gets a chill. He still had to tell his dad about him. It was probably nothing anyway.

"So what's new with you?" she asks.

All he can think of is Cas. Since he saw her.. he'd flown with him, kissed him and had an amazing, embarrassing orgasm with him.

"Um.. nothing much. You?"

_BRINNGGG BRINNGGG_

"Nothing. My mom expects me to go just go to school and play kickball or whatever. Pretend to be normal when it's like nothing will ever be normal again."

Great, here we go. He was shit at this type of thing and were they going to have this talk every time he saw her?

Somewhere in the distance, there's this repetitive chiming that's vaguely irritating.

"Yeah, I'm real sorry about your dad." He says, bending his head to catch sight of Sam who waves exaggeratedly from atop a slide.

_BRINNGGG BRINNGGG_

"Not that. I mean, not just that. But everything else."

Maybe if he just nodded and didn't say anything they could sit in silence.

_BRINNGGG BRINNGGG_

Well not silence because of that damn bell some kid keeps ringing. It sounds kinda like one of those bicycle bells.

"He was a Hunter, too."

_BRINNGGG BRINNGGG BRINNGGG_

"Yeah? Like deer and all that?" Christ, will that kid knock it off already? He's looking around for the source of annoyance. Unsupervised little brat. "My uh dad likes to go out in the woods at-"

"Dean." Jo scrunches her eyebrows.

"What?"

"Do you.. did they really not tell you?"

"Tell me.. what?" He focuses back on her now because someone must have finally grabbed their kid. The bell stopped.

"Hunter, Dean. Capital H. Vampires, Shapeshifters, The Boogie Man.. tell me you know." She presses her lips together like she can't stand his blank look.

"Uh, what are you talking about?"

"My mom won't tell me much.. but I heard her talking about my dad with Bobby. It was a demon."

A demon? If there were angels.. could there really be-

The sound of Sam screaming jerks his attention away. He's doesn't see him. Feeling as though ice water had been thrown over his head, Dean runs across the sand until he's at the slides. He circles them until he finds Sam crying on the ground hysterically, slumped and holding his arm. A second later, his mom is beside him.

"What? What happened?" She falls to her knees, looking from Dean to Sam while gingerly moving Sam's arm. He howls and sobs at the slightest touch.

"I don't know! I only took my eyes off him for a second! He was just playing."

Sam whines, and tries to talk between hiccupping. "She.. She pushed me!"

"What?" Dean looks around as they get Sam to his feet. There's only a few smaller kids with their parents pushing them on baby swings, all staring at them in shocked horror.

"Come on, Honey. We gotta go." Sam sniffles as Mary gently holds his arm so it doesn't move as they walk.

"Sam, someone pushed you?!" He asks, keeping up as they walk towards the car but continuously searching the area.

"Dean, he fell." His mother says under her breath as she buckles him in with only one side of the child harness so it doesn't touch his arm.

"We'll follow you. Do you want me to call John on the way?" Ellen asks from behind them.

"Yes, thanks."

"She pushed me! She said she wanted to be friends! She-She-"

"Okay, Sam Baby. Just hold on. You'll feel better soon." Mary kisses him on the forehead and tells Dean to get in back with him.

He frowns at the playground, but there are only the same couple of parents with their small children.

"Dean! Get it now!" His mom yells from the driver's seat.

Thankfully, it wasn't a compound fracture but Sam still had to get a cast made for the break. He kept saying it was a girl who been talking to him at the top of the slides. Over and over he said she pushed him. His mom soothed him and held him close, telling him he was safe. She wouldn't let anything happen to him.

Dean heard his mom tell the doctor's her son had fallen and even though he hadn't seen a little girl around that Sam swore was there.. it made him feel uneasy. He hated feeling helpless and watching Sam in pain was almost unbearable.

Their dad showed up in time to see his cast being fit into the sling. They doted and hugged over Sam for a while longer and left the hospital for ice cream before heading home.

Sam's cries about a little girl stayed with him the whole drive.

That night, Dean's trapped in a dark dream that whirls and twists, never settling for an instant. It's all a collage of sounds and hazy images. The creak of a chain. A happy chime of a bicycle bell. Jo saying Demon. Sam screaming. Cas telling him he'd make a beautiful angel. It all flashes and melds until it crescendos and he jerks awake.

There's a shadow over him across his bed and Dean almost yells out before he sees those familiar blue eyes.

"Cas?!" He clutches his chest. "Jesus, you scared the shit outta me."

"That was not my intention. I wouldn't have woken you. I just needed to assure myself you were unharmed."

"Why?" When Cas just turns away, he says, "Does it have anything to do with demons?" Dean waits to see if he can gage a reaction from him. His back stiffens but he doesn't turn back. "They're real?"

"Go to sleep, Dean."

Before he can hop off the ledge, he says softly, "You can stay.. if you want."

Cas stands facing the outside, arms braced on the frame for a minute before looking over his shoulder.

"Will you regret my being here later and yell at me again?"

Dean sighs and sits all the way up."I guess I deserve that."

Castiel steps down but stays near the window.

"Look, sorry about the other night."

"I'm not. I am only sorry that you seem so conflicted."

Cas stretches and rolls his shoulders slowly. Dean gets distracted by the thin line of his stomach that shows when his arms raise. When he meets Cas' eyes again, they're steady on his, as if he's been staring at him for a while.

"Anyway, I felt bad with the way we left things." Dean's face is hot and he wipes his palms on the comforter he's staring at like his life depended on it.

"And how would you rather have left things, Dean?" Cas says like he's not going to help him a bit but is content to watch him squirm. He hasn't made a move towards him, simply leaning back against the wall a few feet away with arms crossed.

"Well, I just meant it was a dick move to just blame you. I got a little.. caught up too."

That was one way to put coming in your pants rubbing against an angel. A freaking angel.. it suddenly seemed wildly taboo to even think about, especially given some of his dirtier thoughts when he zoned out lately. While Cas is quiet, Dean keeps glancing at his neck where the hickey he gave him is a faint purple and yellow smudge. It would have been gone by now if not for.. he gets the unbidden memory of saying it could be darker.

"You didn't, uh, wanna heal that?"

"No."

"Why not, Cas?" He gets up to stand a few feet away and immediately regrets it. He should really have stayed where he was on the bed, because now that he's closer Dean can't stop imagining being pinned up against that damn tree.

"It is a pleasant memory and I am not ashamed of the reminder." Cas' voice seems hollow, devoid of emotion.

"So your brothers saw it?"

"Yes."

"What'd you tell them?"

"Merely that you were teaching me the process of marking and that I enjoyed reciprocating very much."

He feels his face heat with a blush, thinking about Cas telling other faceless angels about the human he necked with. He feels itchy and restless; wanting to step closer when he knows that would be the worst idea in the world. He can't keep doing this. Cas is naive and this is being an ass… playing with him when he now knew that Cas wanted more from him.

"Christ, this is ridiculous." He growls out.

"What is wrong, now?"

"You."

"Dean, I have literally done nothing and offered to leave as well."

"Just standing there.. it's like you're in my goddamn head."

"I told you I would not read your mind-"

"I don't mean that."

Cas was always hung up on the literal. Dean grits his teeth and paces. He should just shut up and let him leave, but when sees the damn hickey again its makes his dick twitch.

"I can't stop..." Cas tilts his head. "I can't stop thinking about your stupid mouth and how you're all warm like a space heater and you smell so freaking good and-." Dean's gasping between the string of accusations, working himself up until he's right in front of Cas, breathing hard.

Castiel just stares at him impassively. "If you are waiting for me to make it easier by assisting you, then stop. I won't kiss you this time just to have you angry at me afterwards."

He didn't.. was that what he was doing? Cas is right there, so close he can smell the outside he always brings with him. Breathing in the faint powdered honey scent of his wings and watching his lips.. Dean realizes that is exactly what he's doing. When the hell did he start wanting this? Maybe if they just kissed.. he could figure out if this was really something he liked, without any other reason than he wanted to.

All Dean had to do was inch forward but that would be such a big step. He puts his arms out on either side of Cas' head and smiles his most charming smile.

"Cas…" His voice is a little husky now, feeling himself getting hard. "You won't help me just a little bit?" The darkening look in Cas' eyes is makes him eager even though he's nervous.

Cas unfolds his arms and slowly brings a hand up to the side of Dean's face and rubs the pad of his thumb over his bottom lip. Dean closes his eyes for a second then reopens them to see Cas watching him closely. The hand moves to behind his neck and when Cas pulls him forward, Deans already moving that way.

Their lips hit hard, teeth bumping and Cas uses it to catch his bottom lip and tug before surging forward again with his tongue. Dean makes a surprised but happy noise. Their mouths slant and rub so it's messy. He's not used to having the other person be so aggressive.. pressing into the kiss just as forcefully, so he backs off a bit and lets Cas lead.. sucking his tongue when it dips inside his mouth. Somehow they switched places but he doesn't know when. Dean only realizes it when he goes to close the distance between their groins and he's immediately pushed back against the wall by a hand on his chest.

"Cas.." He breathes when he moves to that goddamn spot on his throat that makes him whimper now. Stubble scrapes over his neck, sending sparks and shivers of anticipation skipping down his spine. Dean's make-out sessions never got as far as the rutting him and Cas had done before but now that he's knows what it's like.. he wanted it again.

When Cas' tongue prods at his fading mark in-between sucking the skin between his teeth, Dean groans and clutches him close, theirs fronts colliding again. He only gets to feel Cas' hardness digging into his hip for a second before he brings a hand up between them to firmly push Dean flush against the wall again. His splayed hand keeps Dean in place this time as his teeth worry that spot.

"Dammit, C'mon Cas. I need.. I need to-"

He lifts his head, licking his lips. "You should understand what you want before you say what you need."

"Okay, Obi Wan." Dean rolls his eyes in annoyance. "Why are you even talking?" Dean grabs his face and tries to connect their lips. Cas lets him pull him close enough to brush lips but not deepen it.

"You are a confusing, irritating human. If I kiss you now, later you will tell me you don't like my kisses."

Dean bends to kiss along his neck.

"That this is wrong." Cas moans low but cuts it off to say, "That this is not what you want."

Dean growls in frustration and let's his head fall back.

"Goddamnit, why do you have to complicate it? You like kissing me, right?"

"Obviously." He frowns even with his lips all swollen and pink.

"Then.." He grabs him by the shirt and yanks him forward.

Cas gives into him for an intense minute of their bodies pressed tight and tongues sliding before he pushes back again but only half an inch this time, arm resting up near Dean's head from elbow to wrist. Cas' fingers burrow into short hair while he pants in Dean's ear. "You said we could not do this anymore."

"Yeah, I know what I said." Dean says before gripping him by the hips and pulling him tight against him so when he surges up their bulges rub.

"But-" He stops to gulp air at the feel of Cas shallowly thrusting in return, head buried in his shoulder. "But I'm tired of talking." Dean reaches down between them with a shaky hand and grabs Cas through the leather to get his attention.

"Aren't you?"

When Cas makes a loud pained noise at the ceiling, Dean covers his mouth with his palm and hisses, "Shhh, we gotta be quiet."

Cas nods and Dean shifts his palm around to cup his face and bring it back.

He won't think too hard about his parents right below them or what it means that he likes doing this with Cas so much. He just clutches his neck and sifts fingers in his wild hair, holding him in place so he doesn't move away. Not that it seemed he was. Since Dean touched him over his pants, he hasn't let any space between them, giving in entirely.

Dean's eyes open mid-kiss when a hand grips him through his flannel pajama bottoms. It mimicked exactly the way he had touched Cas a moment before, without moving or anything else. Cas only ever seemed to repeat his movements back to him, either from inexperience or maybe since Dean did it first he saw it as a green light.

When he just breathes roughly against Cas' mouth, no longer participating in the kiss, Cas moves close to his ear and says, "Do you want me to stop?"

Stop. Did he want him to stop? Stupid question but how far were they gonna go?

Cas' fingers trace his length, reminding him to answer. "Dean?" He kisses just over that sweet spot on his neck that makes him shiver.

"Fuck no. Don't stop."

The hand tightens over him all at once just as Cas bites down on his pulse point. Biting his own lip in attempt to stifle any noise, Dean still moans deep in the back of his throat. Cas pulls back to lick over his mouth, coaxing him into a kiss.

The hand that wasn't busy learning the contours of his most intimate body part is cupping the back of his neck. Cas is tugging him by it and walking backwards towards.. the bed. Without breaking the kiss, he turns them around and pushes Dean back to fall on the mattress. Pushing his palms into the bed behind him, Dean scoots back further and Cas follows, crawling above him and connecting their lips again.

"I like this much more than standing." Cas murmurs between kissing his chin and jaw.

"Yeah, I think you just wanna get me on my back." Dean laughs but it turns into a gasp.

He feels Cas smirk into against the sensitive skin behind his ear. "Perhaps."

Dean swallows almost letting the anxiety come back for a second. He's on his bed with a guy's weight pressing him into the sheets.. was he ready to do more? He liked kissing and the rubbing felt fucking amazing.. but what else was Cas expecting? Dean didn't have a clue in hell what he was doing in this new territory and Cas seemed to pick up all his ques from him. It was hard enough not to freak out because he always seemed to be the one that ended up on his back against some surface.. and how he kinda liked it. What would that mean if they went further.. shit he couldn't even think about that without almost choking on panic.

Cas interrupts his mental rambling when he asks, "Would you let me see you?"

"See me?" Dean grabs a breath between a kiss.

"Yes." Cas' fingers travel up to the waist band of his pants before dipping inside to encircle his throbbing dick. Turning his face into Cas' shoulder, Dean cries out at the warmth surrounding him suddenly.

"Okay," he whispers as if he could undo the semi-loud noise he just made.

Cas turns his head to the side and lowers his eyes so he can watch his hand pull out Dean's cock. While doing so, he inadvertently pulls upwards and Dean's hips buck.

"Fuck!" He whispers, harshly.

"Did I hurt you?" Cas turns back to him quickly.

Panting, Dean laughs, "Hell no. Haven't you ever done this to yourself?"

Cas lowers his gaze again. "No." He's half-paying attention to him while tracing the exposed outline of his stiffness with a finger, pinched eyebrows and all… like he's studying this new part of Dean.

Dean gets up on his elbows and watches too, getting lost in the way Cas follows the vein up to his head, running a fingertip over the pre-cum collecting at his slit. He turns his finger and rubs it between his thumb.

"God, you're killing me." Dean sighs, trying not to lose it right there.

"You touch yourself like this often?"

"Well ya know.. It's normal. Most everybody does. Remember that time you flew in on me and I freaked out?"

Cas raises his eyebrows at that, glancing at Dean's face before gripping him tight in his fist again. Dean's eyes flutter when he pulls upward. Opening his eyes, he sees Cas above him from a few inches away, eyes taking in his whole face.

"Tell me what to do."

God, this was hot.

"Um, keep doing that, but grab a little higher.. Jesus.. yeah. Okay tighter and.. fuck.. faster…Yeahh.." Dean rolls his eyes back and drops his head on the mattress, not able to watch anymore. "Like that.. " his mouth falls open.

Cas is rubbing his own dick, still trapped in his pants, over Dean's thigh while his hands pumps him. Dean fists his hands in the sheets, turning his neck so Cas can bury his face into his shoulder at the same time. He disentangles one hand to reach up and hold Cas' head against him, twisting his fingers in his dark locks.

Why did this feel so much better when someone.. when Cas.. was doing it? As a normal red-blooded teenager, he'd probably jerked off hundreds of times but when the twists and quick tugs were ones he didn't anticipate.. along with the foreign feeling of someone else's callused fingers.. rubbing the sensitive skin..

Cas catches his lips and Christ that was even better.

Everything's building. Cas groaning into his mouth while grinding into his leg. Dean's back bounces into the mattress a little with each thrust in time with his working hand.

"Faster, Cas." Dean says against his lips and bites down on Cas' bottom lip when his hand picks up speed.

"Ughh.. Fuck, Cas.. yes.. harder.."

Gasping sharply, Cas grips him almost too hard but it sends him over. Dean cries out into the hollow of Cas' shoulder while his cum hits his tshirt and drips over Cas' fingers. His whole body feels boneless and he has to grab Cas' wrist to make him stop tugging. His hand relaxes and Cas rubs his rough cheek against Dean's face like a content feline. He's a heavy weight collapsed half over him and Dean realizes Cas is soft against him. He must have come sometime when Dean was having his own little blissed out moment. Now he felt kinda like a selfish prick.

"Geez, sorry for-"

Cas kisses him quickly and deeply. "Dean, do not be sorry for anything right now."

* * *

**Author's Note: ****I hope you are enjoying my little fic. Now would be an excellent time to draw your attention to my Angst tag. Just.. so you can't wail and gnash your teeth at me later for not warning you. I love you all dearly!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Warning.. Chapter contains homophobia and wing-kinkery.**

* * *

They're quiet for a while after that, Cas still lying half on him with an arm draped over his middle. Dean grabs the elastic of his pajama bottoms and tucks himself back out of sight, feeling self-conscious now.

Cas turns his head to look up at him. "Was that.. okay?" he asks hesitantly.

"Yeah.." Dean says to the ceiling, a little lost on what to do now that his hormones weren't egging him on.

"I can leave.." Cas offers quietly.

Dean lowers his gaze to see Cas' face is blank, devoid of all its previous happy exuberance.

"If you want." Cas tenses, but before he can move Dean adds, "Or you could stay a little longer."

When he settles back down against him, Dean rests his hand on his back. After another minute, it feels less awkward.

"Cas, look.. I'm trying really hard not to freak out. I don't know what I'm doing here, but I.." He stops to think how to put it before saying, "I know I like this. And I like doing it with you."

Cas grins and looks away. "Only me?"

"Yeah, only you."

The silence stretches for a few minutes with Dean staring up again, trying to wrap his head around what they just did. What it might mean and.. how the hell was he supposed to act now? His fingers idly rub over Cas' back and he looks down when they are stopped by an invisible protrusion.

"Cas?" He strokes around its width. "Is that-"

"It seems I lack concentration at the moment."

"You mind if I touch them?"

"Please."

Dean's fingertip follows up what feels hard like bone. Cas shivers against him, face burying under his chin to bump it. He laughs, "Is that like a turn on for you guys?"

"Others of my kind would not expose their true selves to a human, I doubt they would know, but I find it very exciting."

Dean stomach flips and he tries to sound confident when he says, "Take your shirt off for me."

Cas looks almost nervous with wide blue eyes but lifts up to pull his shirt over his head. He lays across Dean's chest, head in his folded arms. Dean watches his fingers ghost over smooth skin, pale in the moonlight. When he reaches the spot where his right wing seems to grow out flesh, he encircles the bone with his thumb and index finger and slides up until it widens too far to keep them together. Cas sighs and turns his face so his other cheek is resting in Dean's chest and looks at him. Dean flicks his eyes up to watch his hand touch invisible feathers, then down to Cas' face when he inhales sharp. He reaches his arm up to glide along the smooth arch of what is presumably the top of the wing until he can't anymore because he'd have to get up and Cas is snuggling closer, arms wrapping around his middle.

Dean flattens his hand and drags it down over row upon row of soft feathers. They tremble and shift under his fingers and he feels a gust of air against his face. Cas makes a desperate noise kinda like a deep hiccup and shuts his eyes tight.

"Jesus, you're hot like this." Dean didn't mean to say it out loud but Cas opens his eyes like he's drugged and smiles shy up at him. Dean rakes his fingertips down again.

"Dean.." he gasps and jerks.

"Did I hurt you?" Dean smirks, imitating Cas earlier. He loved hearing his name said in Cas' wrecked voice.

"Yes, it was quite painful." Cas deadpans.

Frowning, Dean asks, "Seriously?"

"Yes. Maybe you should do it again."

Grinning, Dean gets an idea and pulls his hand back. Cas looks up disappointed, but not surprised. Geez, he probably thought he was ready to bolt again.

"How 'bout you answer a few questions and we'll see what happens?"

"Questions?" Cas squints but Dean rubs a thumb up his spine, his voice sounds strained. "What kind of questions?"

Dean plays a finger coyly over a few inches of his shoulder blade. "Are demons real?"

"Dean.. you know-"

He gasps when Dean sinks his hand in a cluster of softness before pulling it back to prop behind his head, pointedly. Cas glares up at him but Dean just smirks and waits.

"Demons are real," he says frowning.

"See, that wasn't so hard."

Cas grumbles and drops his head back down.

"So, why'd you come here tonight? Not that I'm complaining." He rubs an unseen feather between two fingers like a promise. Or a tease.

"There is an increase of demonic activity in this town." He winces when Dean's surprised and lifts his hand to accidentally catch on several feathers and go against the grain.

"Sorry, sorry." Cas relaxes against him again when strokes his back muscles. "Do they have wings and stuff like you?"

"They are nothing like us," Cas almost growls.

"Alright, simmer down. I didn't know, did I? You never tell me anything."

Cas still locks his jaw. Dean tugs lightly on a feather to see if it produces a good reaction or not. Cas makes a happy grunt. Tugging on several at once, gently, he continues, "So what are they like? Not all hot like you, right?" He rubs his other hand through Cas' hair. Cas smiles at the compliment and loses the last of his anger. "Are they ugly? I bet they have pointy tales."

"Their bodies are not their own. They must possess a vessel." Cas grits his teeth when Dean grips lower down on his wing. "A Human."

Dean runs his hand as low as he can reach to sift through was seem like longer, stiffer feathers. Cas' addictive scent is surrounding him as he drowns in his soft moans. His finger is suddenly sliced by a sharp edge.

"Shit!" He pulls his hand back to see blood dripping steadily. Cas looks up and grabs his hand firmly and brings it to his lips. When he kisses the wound, it closes.

"I apologize.. you make me forget my control."

"What the hell was that? Did your wing just bite me?"

"I told you before.. my lower flight feathers can sharpen." Cas looks all worried with blood on his bottom lip. Dean kisses him, chastely.

"You're dangerous, huh? Should I be afraid of you, Cas?"

"Of course." Cas pushes Dean back and shifts so he's between his legs, above him with arms straight out to brace himself above Dean. Without hesitation, he grabs Dean's pants on either side of his hips and pulls them down over his ass so he's all out to his midthigh. His half-hard erection bobs in the cooler night air.

"Whoa, Cas."

"Yes, Dean?" He says, with his gaze down between them. It's shocking for him to just touch him now with boldness. Like there isn't a question that he's allowed to touch Dean when he wants without asking.

"I already.. I can't-"

While kissing him, Cas takes Dean's hand and brings it down to his leather pants. Dean's heartbeat jumps but his hand stays frozen just over Cas' black cord lacing.

Burrows into his neck, Cas says, "I tried not to come back here. So many times, I tried, Dean. I couldn't stop thinking about your beautiful green eyes and soft lips.. or the noise you make that seems to embarrass you."

Dean blushes knowing exactly what stupid high-pitched whine he's talking about. Cas sucks at his ear lobe and it gives him the last push to drag his fingers through the tied cord and pulling until the leather separates and he's suddenly touching him for the first time. His hand shakes as he follows Cas' length up from the root to tip. He's warm and smooth. It's not unlike touching himself except he gets to watch Cas scrunch his face up and bite on his chapped pink lips and know that he's the reason. It's almost as good as doing it to himself. Almost. The next best thing.

He pulls Cas down to nip at his lips and then remembers what made him all hot and horny again in the first place. He keeps Cas occupied with rubbing a thumb over his head and sucking on his tongue when it surges inside his mouth. Reaching behind his back, Dean slots his hand under the invisible wing and bunches it tight. Groaning, Cas dips his hands underneath Dean's ass and lifts him up so their dicks bump. Then rub. Then thrust along side each other. Dean had lowered his hand to the small of his back, surprised by the sudden movement and Cas' strength, suspending him a bit in air. He slides his hand upward now to wrap around the joint, then up underneath. He frowns with his fingers get covered in a warm leaking fluid. Cas bites his shoulder to cry out and rock against him hard with his hips. He doesn't know what it is but it's driving Cas nuts. He lifts two wet digits up to his face. Sniffing them curiously, Dean brings them hesitantly towards his tongue. Cas lifts his head suddenly and watches with wide slightly-crazed eyes.

"D-Dean.." He gasps.

Dean's tongue tingles.. and it tastes like strong honey and maybe almond?

"What is that?" He frowns at his fingers, licking around his mouth and watching them move with the thick viscous substance on them.

"My oil, you- stop putting it in your mouth, Dean."

"It kinda tastes.."

Cas grabs his wrist in a hold that will probably bruise. "You have no idea the restraint I am exercising when you do that. I would suggest you stop now."

Dean quirks an eyebrow and reaches down to grab his cock all at once again, smiling smugly when Cas' eyes roll back.

"Yeah?" He licks his fingertip. "This gettin' you all riled up, Cas? You-"

Dean's head jerks towards the door when he hears footsteps on the stairs.

"Cas!" He pushes at his chest to shake him out of his daze. "You gotta go!"

Cas drops down to kiss him hard, pressing something into his hand.

"Go! Go now!" He whispers quickly, grabbing the control to turn on the tv. He spares a second to blindly change to a random late night talk show and grab Cas' shirt to throw at him. Smiling wide, he walks backwards. Despite his panic, Dean smiles back before frantically waving him away. When the doorknob turns he has time to look down and hike up his pajama pants and see Cas' dive backwards out of the window.

Dean shuts his eyes and tries to breathe shallowly. Footsteps cross his floor and stop at the end of his bed. Slow and even, he thinks over and over though his pulse is pounding. They can't tell he just had angel sitting on his lap. Slow and even. He fights to not curl into a ball. After a few more seconds, his tv is turned off and then there's complete silence. Dean slowly creaks an eye open the tiniest bit to see his dad staring out the window. When he turns towards him, Dean quickly shuts his eyes. After another minute, he hears the windows being latched and his father closing his door.

Dean breathes out a shaky breath and turns on his back. He pulls out his closed hand from under the covers to see what Cas gave him before they were almost caught.

It's a solid black feather.

The next morning, when Dean wakes up the first thing he does after yawning is reach under his pillow to see the feather again. He twirls it once, smiling, then feels like a lovesick girl so he looks around until he finds a book on the floor. It's the fairytale book that Cas first read Sleeping Beauty in and started them kissing in the first place. Thinking it was fitting, he carefully places it in the middle and closes it before finding a natural looking spot on the book shelf.

He gets dressed and runs downstairs for breakfast. His mom is at the stove, cooking bacon. He announces his presence with an enthusiastic, "Morning!" and a quick kiss to her cheek before sitting at the table next to Sam.

Mary turns and raises an eyebrow. "Well, Good Morning. Is that really my broody teenage son? Are you feeling okay?"

"Stop." Dean pushes her hand away when she feels his head like she's taking his temperature.

His mom's eyebrows furrow. "Do you smell syrup or something?" She crosses the kitchen, checking around until she finds the maple syrup bottle and sniffs it. Dean blushes as she lifts it looking for a hole. He thought Cas' sweet scent had been in his head. Lowering his hands under the table, he quickly asks, "Uh, where's dad?"

"He left for work early." She shakes her head and puts the bottle back.

Sam had been poking his spoon at his oatmeal with his good hand and hasn't even looked up yet. "Hey, Sammy!"

"Hi." His little brother says quietly.

"Hey, C'mere. Don't you know you're supposed to decorate one of those?"

Dean spends the rest of breakfast drawing a dragon in green sharpie that might look a little like a lizard with a beard but it does the trick of making Sam smile. He asks his mom if Charlie can come over since its Saturday and she agrees. When she gets that knowing proud mom look, the happy feeling in his stomach sours. He could never tell them about Cas. Well, not that he would be able to anyway with him being an angel. It's like their time at night doesn't exist in the light of day. Cas doesn't make sense here in his bright morning kitchen with his baby bro and mom eating bacon and pancakes. What he was doing was scary enough with a guy.. but slap wings on him and it was just.. what was he doing? On top of everything, had he corrupted an angel? Cas hadn't even kissed anyone before him. It was easy to forget. The last two times he didn't look like he needed much help.. what with the way he got all aggressive and took the lead. And fuck if that wasn't hot when he got that dark look in his eye like he was sure if everything they were doing. He was apparently learning exactly what touch to use when.

And his wings.. Dean can imagine them better now. Huge and pitch black, spread high above him. Dean licks his thumb surreptitiously and there's still a sweetness to his skin. He was already nervous and hoping Cas might come back that night again.

Charlie makes it over about 3 in the afternoon and he can tell right away something's wrong. She doesn't joke or call him Winchester or anything as she follows him up the stairs to his room. Dean asks her if she's alright and she just nods. When she sits down to play next to him on the floor, she just stares at her hands.

"Charlie?" He asks, setting down his controller. After she doesn't acknowledge him, he takes hers and sets it down too.

"What's a matter?"

Tears start streaming down her face but she still hasn't looked up yet. Dean clenches his jaw, hating how he was so inept at this. Finally, he throws an arm over her shoulders and pulls her close into his side.

"It's okay. You don't have to talk about it." He says against her temple.

Charlie grabs his shirt and cries into his collar as he strokes her hair. After a while, she sniffs and pulls back, not looking at him.

"Sorry." She wipes angrily at her face. "I hate being weepy."

"Sorry I'm sucking at knowing what to say."

Her lips twitch but turn down instead of into a smile. She shakes herself and asks if they can play now. Dean tells her whatever she wants.

After a few minutes of Mario and Luigi making their way energetically through dancing cacti, she says her mom's cancer came back. When he pauses the game with his controller, she immediately unpauses it with hers. Dean reluctantly turns his attention back to the screen as she goes through the last few tough years and how for a while it looked better. But it always came back.

"Let's talk about something else." She says grimly after an extended silence.

"Like what?"

She blows out a shaky breath. "Anything. I'm tired of being sad."

Charlie had opened herself up so maybe he could give her a little of himself back.

"So.. things are going.. uh pretty good with Cas." He starts slowly.

She turns to give him an actual smile. "Yeah? What's he like?"

Dean grins stupidly at the screen while thinking. "Well he's like real intense. Kinda uptight sometimes but then he can be.. I don't know.." He looks at her and stops abruptly. "What?"

"Nothing. You're just so cute. So where'd you meet him? He doesn't go to our school, right?"

"Oh um.. he lives around here. I.. he doesn't go to school."

"Older guy? Not in a creepy Dateline Old-guy-stalks-youth kinda way, hopefully?"

Dean smirks. "Nah, just a little bit older."

Come to think of it, he'd never asked much about that. How angels age or how any of it even worked. Cas had been coming to him since he was 12 and he never looked any different. Before all that stuff had been on the off limits list of topics as was most of his questions about angels, but surely now he had some right to ask? Or not. What was he even to Cas?

Charlie pulls him out of his thoughts to ask if his parents knew about Cas.

"Not exactly. So next level?"

Charlie looks uneasy but resolutely turns ahead and goes back to playing. He thinks they're done talking and absorbs back into the game but eventually she says, "You know that's gonna bite you in the ass, right?"

"Huh?"

"You should be the one to tell them now before they find out another way."

"Charlie." He stops and puts down the remote completely. She pushes pause and turns to him, warily. "They can't know. Ever. My dad.. that- that would..." Getting worked up, Dean imagines holding Cas' hand in front of his parents and starts sweating.

"Hey, it's okay." She waits for him to run a nervous hand through his hair and turn back towards her. "I'm just sayin'.. wouldn't it be better to be like open about it?"

"No."

She stares at him for a minute but he returns it with hard eyes. "Alright, alright." She throws up her hands in surrender. "Here endeth the lecture." She pushes him lightly on the shoulder. "Thanks for telling me. And for not bolting at my meltdown."

"Anytime you need to make my shirt all gross and snotty, I'm here for ya."

"There was no snot! I cry quite prettily, I'll have you know."

The rest of the afternoon is comfortable and carefree again. His dad comes home during dinner and barely says hello before he's running upstairs for a shower. They finish eating and once Dean clears the plates, his mom asks if he can take the trash out. He grabs the bag and walks out the door around to the side of the house. Its dusk and the sounds of the insects buzzing fill the air. He throws the trash in and covers it back with the lid. He makes it only a few steps before he's grabbed by the arm and slammed against the wall of his house. Before he can stop wincing, lips are covering his and he's caged by a warm body.

"Cas?" he gasps between a kiss. He smiles against Dean's lips and murmurs, "Do you have a habit of kissing others against your home?"

Dean makes a small humming noise of approval when Cas nuzzles his neck before he realizes where they are.

"Wait, no. You can't be here."

"Mmm," Cas's voice against his throat just sounds like a rumble when he kisses and sucks a trail from his Adam's Apple to his chin, then along jaw and nipping at his earlobe. "I've missed you."

"You just saw me last night." Dean arms come up to stroke his shoulder blades where he seemed to be sensitive even if his wings weren't out.

"It seemed longer. Do you not miss me when I am gone?" He sounds playful but there's a small tension in his back now.

"Jesus, of course." Dean arches away from the wall and into Cas' body to grind against him. "You're all I freaking think about, lately."

Dean gets a little caught up in the feel of Cas pressing so tight along his body and how his fingers hold his head in place while coaxing him into kissing that he forgets why he has to leave. Until Cas is abruptly pulled back and flung away from him.

Dean blinks, probably looking as dazed as Cas before he sees his dad glaring between him and his angel.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Cas glances towards Dean who feels like he's going to be sick. He should say something. Anything. What combination of words would make this not appear to be exactly what it was?

"Hey!" His dad pushes Cas' shoulder hard so he takes a small step back. "Don't look at him. You fucking look at me!" Somewhere in his head, Dean knows that it's only because Cas allowed it that he shifted back. It would take a lot more than his father, pissed off or not, to move Cas if he didn't want to.

Cas flicks his eyes to his father and coolly keeps his gaze until John tightens his jaw and just growls, "Get out of here."

Cas doesn't make a move or break away from the staring match until Dean manages to make his mouth work.

"Just go." Dean says, not looking at him.

He furrows his brow at Dean but reluctantly walks off towards the front of the house. Well not like he could fly off Dean thinks ridiculously so he doesn't have to think that his dad was now turning all his attention to him.

"Is this why you've been dropping grades and moping around the house? To be sneaking around with some asshole?"

"Cas isn't some asshole." It's the only thing he can think to say with his brain panicking and words flinging through him a mile a minute with none sticking.

"Cas? That's Cas?! How long has this shit been goin' on?"

Dean balls his fists at his sides and keeps staring at his dad's shoes.

"Answer me!"

Wincing, he mutters, "Not long."

John shakes his head at the ground. "Where did this come from? I didn't raise you to be some goddamn Fa-" He whips his head away and growls, cutting himself off... But Dean still heard it. Just as if he had yelled it.

Faggot.

Everything feels unreal and numb after that. His dad yells some more while pacing until he's red in the face and his mom comes out. He vaguely knows that they're shouting back and forth but he doesn't hear any of it. That word circles his head. And his father's look of disgust.

Dean finally walks past them through the kitchen with Sam saying his name and goes upstairs. He locks the door behind him and quietly lies down on his bed turning on his side while clutching a pillow. When someone pounds on the door, he only moves the pillow up to hold over his head. Eventually the heavy knocks stop and thudding footsteps fade.

The numbness returns and Dean wallows in it. What follows is a semi-wakeful state where he would probably fall asleep if his brain would turn off but he just keeps seeing his dad's face, keeps hearing that half-said word.. over and over and over again. His stomach knots and rolls so that he thinks about throwing up off and on but that would mean leaving his room. Why wasn't he more careful? Why had he let Cas kiss him so out in the open? God, his dad had seen him kissing him too. There was no denying it. What was he even gonna say? He can't even imagine what it'll be like when he's finally made to leave his room and face them. Face him. For now all he can do is lie here and wish for a hole to come swallow him up.

At some point he feels the bed dip but he ignores it. After long minutes of nothing, Dean says, "Go away, Cas." His voice sounds dead and empty even to himself. He stays on his side, facing the other way.

A hand touches his shoulder and Dean closes his eyes at the momentary comfort before barking low, "I said, go away!" He shrugs away further from him and whispers, "Please."

Dean lets his mind tune out the world again to get wrapped up in his own dark-tented thoughts. When he checks over his shoulder later, he's alone.

* * *

**Author's Note: ****For those who are worried about how angsty my angst will get.. let me tell you this now. I am a firm believer in happy endings.. but you have to earn it.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Thanks to my lovely readers.. especially anyone that takes the time to comment. It does wonders for my confidence and ambition. Also there will occasionally be a snippet from Castiel's POV. I might eventually go back and have a companion fic with scenes from his POV or missing scenes with him but for now this is it.**

* * *

Castiel stands in the shadows against a nearby house watching her. He should not be here. Besides the obvious reasons, it only makes it worse but he has to check and make sure she's okay. Like he does everyday. Humans are so fragile.

She's getting out of a car, laughing at something the male says. He comes around to take her hand. He seems to share her home now. They're about to walk up the stairs to their bungalow two bedroom house. It has lots of earthy tones. Variations of browns, greens, deep reds.. Castiel noticed an abundance of pictures with flowers, too. Frames with sunflower prints, daisies, a painting of red poppy fields.. He imagines it would make the inside seem like one big garden. Not that he would ever be inside to know.

Suddenly, the woman stops and whips her long red hair around to face his direction. She can't see him, he reasons. If he flinches, the movement will give him away. Castiel wills himself still, not a feather twitching and watches her search the darkness. It almost feels like they're staring at each other. He takes in her face, the new lines and matured mouth. It's almost the same, though she seems to smile more now. Easier.

Finally, the male tugs her hand until she frowns but lets him pull her along up to their porch. As Castiel grips the hilt of his Angelblade tight to ground him, he hears Dean's gruff voice. Before he can smile in relief, he processes the words of his prayer. "Don't come."

He sighs and air puffs out in front of him. If only he could go back to not wanting anything.. away from this place. Let the Earth spin on without him. He looks at his bare bicep with a pinched brow. It's tempting.

But now there was Dean. He had been a guilty pleasure. Something he'd allowed himself to indulge in that was just his. To watch from afar as a symbol of humanity. Then he'd fallen that night and Castiel had been lost. He found that he couldn't just observe anymore.

He stokes the skin on his arm, imagining what it would look like with Gabriel's cuff.

What was he to a human boy like Dean? Dean would grow to a man and find a compatible human, possibly have his own family. There was no place for him there, no matter how much he argued internally over it. Even now, every visit felt like a battle. He had to fight for every step forward.. he should really just leave him be. But when Dean looked at him with that quirk of his lips and bright green eyes.. he knew he'd still come back for more. Until Dean wouldn't have him.

"I'm sorry," Dean prays now. Castiel waits, but there's nothing else.

He breathes out through his nose and points his face to the sky. Pushing off the ground, he flies straight up, faster than he should. So fast, his eyes tear and his back muscles ache after only a few minutes.

Maybe he would spend some time away from here and all its pain and confusion and desires.

Humanity.. it was the source of every sorrow he'd ever known.

Dean finally fell asleep sometime in the night. When he wakes up to loud knocking on his door he still feels exhausted.

"Get dressed and be downstairs in five minutes." His dad's voice booms from the other side and dread washes through him all over again.

He throws on the first thing his hands touch in his dresser drawer and shuffles downstairs, each step seeming too loud. He felt like he'd been in a protective bubble behind his locked bedroom door. Now he was exposed and vulnerable.

His dad is waiting at the bottom with his jacket on. He looks up when Dean reaches the last step.

"Dad, I -"

"We're going out." He tosses Dean his jacket and opens the door.

"John." His mom walks slowly from the kitchen. Dean glances her way then back at his dad.

"Now." He says, leaving the door open and Dean walks through it like a prisoner on the way to the gallows.

His dad hangs back to talk to his mom for a few minutes while he leans his back against the Impala. Staring up at the sky, he watches a hawk circle and feels a pain behind his sternum. He straightens when the front door is slammed and his dad stomps towards him.

"Get in."

They drive but Dean doesn't pay attention to where they're going. He just breathes in and out, like his life hinges on what his dad says next. It's awful being constantly tense waiting for anything but he keeps silent. Zoning out, he imagines all the possible scenarios for how this talk will go and eventually looks up to see they are pulling into what seems a random dirt road until after another turn, it's very apparent where they're going. The car pulls off and they get out.. roughly where his dad had taken him to shoot the first time forever ago.

Dean waits by the car door while his dad messes around in the trunk. For an insane moment, he envisions his dad shooting and burying him out here in the middle of nowhere. He jumps when the trunk slams and his dad walks past him without a word. John sets up targets along the dilapidated fence like he did before but this time they're all cans, half the size of the gallon tomato one from last time that he hadn't been able hit.

Dean looks at the targets and then at his dad when he comes to stand next to him.

"I can't.."

"Can't what?" John turns to him with unyielding eyes.

"I can't hit any of those. They're too far. Too small."

"You can and you will." He's handed a full box of shells. "Now start."

Dean loads the clip carefully and slides it home. Glancing one last time at his father, he brings up his arm and tries to remember his dad's instruction from last time. Breathing out, he aims. He fires. He misses.

"Again."

He aims, he fires.. he hits absolutely nothing. On and on, he continues to line up and breathe out slowly and not so much as graze one. He manages to hit the fence they're sitting on a few times but that's it. It's not even satisfying with his dad staring ahead and occasionally sipping from his flask. He goes through the whole clip before he drops his arm and says, "Dad, I'm not gonna hit anything that far away."

"We're not leavin' till you do."

Dean reloads, biting the inside of his cheek. After burning through another clip, he reloads without being told. Why were they here? Was this some kind of punishment? Was his dad waiting for him to break down.. because he be damned if he would now.

He stubbornly keeps firing though his fingers are stiff from gripping tightly and blisters are forming but he forces his face blank. While making his way through the fourth clip, his dad starts talking again.

"I don't wanna know who he is or where he came from... I just want you to say it's over."

Dean's quiet. Clenching his jaw, he fires another shot. "I don't want to ever see him again, Dean."

He focuses on the tomato can like his life depends on it so it's something other than his dad's words.

"Dean."

His dad is waiting for something but he ignores everything else for a moment as he breathes out and… Hits one! It leaks red fluid out of a small hole he can barely see. He blows out a disbelieving breath.

John turns to look at it for a few moments before reaching into his pocket and grabbing another box of shells.

"Do it again."

He suppresses the protest he was about to make before it can leave his mouth and pops the clip to reload. If this was some kind of manly man test.. he wasn't going to act like some weak bitch. He could be fucking strong and he wasn't going to cry uncle or whatever the hell his dad expected.

Two hours later and his dad finally says enough. Dean lowers his arm and pries the gun out of his bent shaky fingers. It takes all of his will not to drop to his knees and clutch his arm. His shoulder aches and his fingers feel like they're on fire.

He slowly curls and uncurls them after his dad takes the gun and stumbles behind him back to the car. He'd hit two other cans and he didn't give in. Small victories that made the walk back a little easier on his tired body.

When he gets in the car, his dad reaches into the glove compartment to find a tube of Neosporin and a roll of gauze to give to him. He doesn't start the car but just watches Dean dab it on where his skin is rubbed raw. When he fumbles while wrapping the bandaging with his other hand, his dad takes it from him and efficiently ties it off.

Dean takes his hand back and turns to look out the window away from his father.

"Son.."

He fixes his eyes on a tree outside and decides not to take his focus off it no matter what his dad yells at him. After a few seconds, the car starts and they drive the back without another word.

When they get home, Dean immediately goes up to his room and falls on his bed. His dad didn't stop him. He's only been up maybe four hours and he already wants to pass out again. Lying on his belly, he almost drifts off when the door opens. Dean quickly moves his hand under the pillow so when his mom comes to sit on the bed next to him, she doesn't see it.

"I really don't want to talk, Mom."

"I understand that this has got to be hard.. but we need to."

He groans and turns so he's facing her. She smiles at him gently and says, "So who your father saw.. that was Cas?" Dean's feels his cheeks getting red. He knew this is that she wanted to talk about, but just having her say his name and everything that implied...

"I'm not gay, okay? I wasn't.. It was just him."

She nods and says carefully, "I would like to meet him if you'd feel comfortable."

"It was a mistake. I told him not to come back."

"Is that because of your father?" When he tenses, she says, "I'm sorry he overreacted, but Dean, if this is part of you then that's okay. We love you either way."

"Yeah well dad-"

"Your father, too. He's.. he has some growing up to do but he'll come around. And this isn't about him."

Dean swallows and turns his cheek on the pillow so he's facing away… towards the window. She leans down to kiss the top of his head then quietly leaves him.

When the door clicks, he gets up to grab the fairytale book off his shelf and lays on his back in bed. Taking out the black feather, he stares at it for a long time. He rubs it across his lips and under his nose trying to inhale some vestige of Cas' scent. His eyes get shiny and his chest feels tight. God, after that shit today with his dad, looking at a freaking feather can make him suddenly feel fucking pathetic. He puts it back in the book carefully then tosses it under his bed.

* * *

At school on Monday, he sleeps his way through the first three periods, failing a quiz and completely forgetting an essay that was due. He sits at a picnic table near the lunchroom, purposely choosing a place Charlie wouldn't be. He'd been avoiding her all day because seeing her.. he'd have to talk about it and he'd rather sit here feeling miserable instead.

"Why so glum, baby?" Pamela stretches along the table in front of him.

Dean shrugs and glances up at her.

"Anything I can do to make it better?" She grabs his hand to stroke his palm with a black nail-polished fingertip.

He watches her as she licks her bottom lip and says, "Ya know, I was real disappointed when you never came to find me."

"Yeah?" Dean sighs and tries to stow all his weariness to smile up at her. "What'd you have in mind, Sugar?"

They end up in the roomy back seat of her El Dorado. She pushes him on his back and climbs up to straddle him. Pulling her shirt over her head, she reveals a black lacy bra they shows off her soft round flesh. When she unbuttons his jeans, he closes his eyes so he doesn't see her dark hair that reminds him of His. She's soft in all the right places, not hard and muscled. Her breathy noises are nothing like Cas' impossibly deep moans. She mashes their lips hard. Her weight, though lighter, covers him.

Dean quickly flips them so he's on top and not the one pressed into the seat. He could do this. She makes a happy purr while rubbing him through his jeans with one hand and pulling his head close with the other so she can lick his neck. It immediately reminds him of Cas. Anything she does now is tainted by a memory of Cas. No matter how he tries to just give in to the good feelings.. he can't tune out the constant flashes of blue eyes. She nibbles his ear. Honey. Stubble. Feathers. Oil. Messy hair he loved to grab.. Fuck. He winces when she bites his neck and props himself up with straightened arms.

"Hey this um.. this isn't gonna work."

She laughs once all throaty and tries to catch his lips again.

"No, look. I'm sorry, but I made a mistake."

She tilts her head and even that sends him a pang of memory and regret.

"Tell me it's not Barbie."

"It's not."

"Alright," she blows out air. "Damn shame with that cute ass of yours." She sinks her fingernails into his butt and smirks and then they awkwardly disentangle.

* * *

That night, his mom, Sam, and him eat dinner like nothing happened. His dad stayed out late and that was fine with him. When Sam asks Dean for a new drawing on his cast, it takes his mind off feeling shitty for a while.

Later in bed, he's half-awake and for a moment he thinks he's still dreaming when he hears the rustle of feathers.

He sits down beside him instead of at the end of the bed.

"I told you not to come."

"I am being disobedient."

Dean smiles because he can't see it then schools his face and sits up. Cas is sitting too close and it's hard not to want to remember their last time in his bed together. For days after, he smelled lingering reminders of his oil on his skin.

"You look different." Dean says, noticing his features seemed less soft. "And where'd your.." he points to his bare arm. "thing go?

"It is not of import."

Dean reaches up to trace his cheek and frown, looking for the slight differences. Cas turns his cheek into Dean's hand. "I was worried. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." He pulls back his hand and fiddles with the covers.

Castiel's forehead creases. "Your father?"

"Yeah, not a great topic." He says to his hands. The blisters are faint and mostly peeled away.

Cas presses his lips and tries to duck his head to catch Dean's eyes. "We can be as we once were.. like you said. Friends." Dean looks up at him. "I won't touch you again." He looks so earnest and all the stress and tension from the last few days just seeps away.

"What if I don't think I can go back to just friends, Cas?" Dean cups his face while he's still looking confused and kisses him gently. It's sweet and tastes like finally. Relief. Like he had been waiting for him and now he was here and the last few days didn't matter. Cas breaks away to drag lips along his jaw and say, "You still smell like me."

It had been days and a few showers ago that they'd been rolling around on his bed but before he can say so Dean shivers because he's almost to that spot on his neck that makes him squirm. But then Cas pauses and hovers just above it.

"Cas?"

After a moment, he sits back and Dean blinks trying to understand the sudden pissed off look he's getting.

"What?"

"I did not make that."

… Oh. Right.

"Okay, look, I didn't- Stop, where are you going?" He whispers as loud as he dares to Cas' retreating back.

He spins and bites out a harsh, "What, Dean?"

"Cas, I didn't do anything with her. I mean, yeah I was going to but I didn't. It was nothing."

"You let her mark you. When I marked you, was it nothing?" Dean just opens his mouth and closes it. "Because it was something to me."

"Look you just don't know what it's like for me. How hard-"

"Did you ever consider what it would be like for me? With my brothers constantly telling me I am debasing myself with you. That to know you so intimately is an abomination."

"Oh thanks." Dean gets a shot of self-righteous anger even though he knows he's in the wrong.

"And to see that.. after you let me kiss you.." Cas glares at the ground and finishes, "I should not have come. You are obviously ambivalent about your feelings and I am only making your life more complicated."

"Will you calm the fuck down; it was seriously no big deal!"

"And neither was our time together."

"Fuck you, Cas." Dean shoves his shoulder but he barely moves. Gritting his teeth at how calm he is, Dean balls his fist and takes a swing at him. Cas grabs his fist mid-air and bends his arm at an angle that's painful enough to keep him in place.. which is right against Cas' chest. Dean tightens his jaw so he doesn't wince at the strain on his arm and Cas breathes evenly from a few inches away. It's almost as if they were about to kiss if they both weren't both so damn angry.

Finally Cas says low, "You are just a selfish boy." He lets Dean go and before the "boy" can think of something equally mean to say, he's out the window.

"So how was school today?" His mom asks the next night at dinner.

"Fine," Dean says, pushing food around his plate without looking up.

"Well Sam, how'd you like your first week of pre-school?"

"Fine!" He imitates Dean but it's a happy hyper sound. "The teacher liked my dragon."

Dean smiles at his brother before going back to slowly chasing peas with his fork. By now, Sam's cast had all kinds of graffiti doodles. After the dragon, he kept bringing Dean different color sharpies to add a superman emblem, a tiny train that circled the top, a robot.. until it was pretty eye-catching.

Awkward silence deafens the small dining room once more and Dean counts the minutes until he can leave the table. His dad and him haven't said two words to each other since they came back from shooting, despite his mom's attempts to include both of them in conversations.

"So honey, how's Cas?" His mom starts, as if it's just another normal topic. Before Dean can tense and avoid an answer, his father speaks.

"We talked about it and Dean decided he wasn't going to see…" He stutters over his name and that makes Dean seriously pissed, more pissed than scared.

"Cas." He supplies, tightly.

"Sure, whatever. Anyway Dean decided he wasn't going to see him again and we're not going to talk anymore about it." John takes a bite of pork chop without even looking his way.

Dean grinds his teeth and smiles, but there's no humor behind it. Mary frowns; shifting her eyes between her husband and son but when she opens her mouth, she's cuts off.

"Dad, what's a Hunter?"

John chokes trying to swallow his food. After taking a sip of iced tea, he clears his throat and says, "Excuse me?"

Dean leans forward on his forearms. "What. Is. A. Hunter? Jo said her dad was one, too. As in also."

Mary starts, "Honey, Jo is still dealing with a lot of grief and-"

"So what's dad's weird culty room down in the cellar?"

"Dean, you-"

"With knives and guns and bottles of crap I've never heard of."

"That's enough, Dean." John grounds out.

"Yeah, there's a lot of stuff we don't talk about, huh?" He pushes back from the table and storms off out the backdoor and into the night. He walks almost to the edge of the tree line and rubs his hands over his face.

"Cas.. I'm sorry."

He prays it a few more times and then just stands there folding his arms against the cold. He stands there so long, he starts to get creeped out by the dark woods and when his mom puts a hand on his shoulder he jumps a little.

"You alright?"

"Fine."

"I think your father wants to talk to you about… about what Jo said if you want to come back inside."

Dean sighs and lets her put an arm around his shoulders and pull him back towards the house. Halfway across the backyard, she starts humming like she often does. But this time... It gives him chills.

It sounds familiar and he can't place his odd reaction until she sings "cheek to cheek" under her breath.

"Mom." He stops where he is. She pauses and looks back at him. "What?"

"Why are you singing that?!"

"It's a classic. You need to listen to something other than your dad's old rock cassettes sometime."

"Yeah, but why that song?"

"I don't know, I seem to keep hearing it lately."

"What? Where?!"

"Are you okay, Honey?"

"Please, just.. it's important. Was it like on the radio or.. or was someone singing it?"

She rolls her eyes indulgently but looks off to think. "Maybe at the grocery.. No! I know. It was when I was picking up Sam at preschool. Yeah.. there was a dad there waiting to pick up his daughter."

Dread starts to ratchet up his heartbeat. It can't be. It's just a coincidence.

"What'd he look like?"

"Dean, why are you-"

"Please! Mom.. Just tell me."

"Hmm.. Tall. Grayish hair. I think he was some sort of a business man by his clothes. Had an odd way of speaking too but he was very nice."


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: Warning.. This chapter includes torture and minor character death. C'mon, you're brave enough though, right?**

* * *

Dean runs the rest of the way to the door, leaving his mom calling after him. He doesn't know what any of it means exactly but the hairs standing up on the back of his neck urge him on. When he bursts through the backdoor, his father stands up. It only takes him a second of searching his son's face before he immediately asks, "What's wrong?"

"I- I don't know. There was this guy.. I forgot to tell you- after, I mean.. I think he's like.. I don't know what-"

"Calm down." John stretches out his arm and holds Dean's shoulder while his mind races. "Now what about some guy?"

Mary comes through the door huffing and asks, "What's going on?"

John lifts a finger from Dean's shoulder to indicate wait a minute.

"I woke up one night and there was a man in our backyard. Um..like a week and a half ago. I think he was at Sam's school talking to mom."

The hand on his shoulder tightens. "What was he doing?"

"Just.. singing." Dean knows it sounds kinda silly but his dad isn't laughing. In fact he visibly pales and quickly turns to Mary. "What'd he say?"

"Nothing weird. He seemed.." she shakes her head before she can say nice again. "He said that he was a Pediatrician and wanted to take a look at Sam's arm sometime. He gave me his card and said anytime I wanted to come by.. that he was always there."

"Anything else?"

"Just that he had a young girl himself and if we ever wanted to make a playdate-"

"Did you see her?! Was she there?"

"No. Sam came out and I said goodbye. What is it?"

John rubs his hands over his face and walks to the doorway to check on Sam who's sitting on the floor near the tv watching PowerRangers.

"John?"

"Call Bobby." He says, still watching Sam. "Tell him they found us. Find that card it gave you and tell him to meet me there in an hour. Then call Ellen. Take the kids."

Mary tenses all over and Dean darts his eyes back and forth between them. "What's going on?"

"Dean, Come with me." John calls over his shoulder as he walks past him and out the back door. Dean dumbly watches his mom pick up the phone before following after. It's terrifying that his dad didn't laugh off what he said.. that instead he'd become dead serious. When he gets out into the backyard, he looks both ways until he sees the cellar door open.

Down the steps, his dad is rapidly loading guns and strapping knives under his jacket. More than he'd think there were spots for.

"Dean." John says when he sees him, not pausing in his loading. "I need you to listen up. You, Sam, and your mother are going to go to Ellen's. Take your knife with you. If anyone other than me or Bobby shows up-" He turns and searches the shelf for a moment before grabbing a bottle and tossing it to him. "Throw this at 'em and run like hell."

"What? What is this stuff?" It's clear and he holds it up to the light. "It just looks like-"

"Water. Holy water."

Dean gives him a funny look. "What, so vampires might show up?"

John sighs and puts down the gun for a second and walks over to him. He almost closes the distance but stops awkwardly.

"There's no time to talk this out like I probably should have before.. but later. Later I will. Right now you protect your mother and Sam, okay?" Dean just stares at him. Protect them from what?

"I know you're mad at me and that it ain't always easy between us..." While his dad stumbles over how to finish that sentence, Dean suddenly wants nothing more to see Cas right that minute. He almost jumps when John pulls him into an abrupt hug. Something had to be very wrong. Before he even thinks about hugging back, his dad lets him go and tells him to go help his mom with packing a bag.

Ten minutes later, his dad scoops up Sam in a tight hug. "Listen to your mom and big brother okay?"

"Okay, Daddy." Sam mumbles sleepily.

Handing him to Dean, John embraces his wife for a full minute.

They drive off, watching their dad slam his trunk and get in to the Impala looking different. Harder. And that was saying something for John Winchester.

On the way, his mom grips the steering wheel with white knuckles and Dean's attempts to get her to talk about it are shot down. She just shakes her head distractedly and they drive in heavy silence on the dark highway road to Ellen's house. When they get there, he carries a sleeping Sam inside and waits while Ellen greets Mary with a fierce hug. Then she says, "Well ya'll better come in. Dean, go ahead and take Sam to the backroom there. I made up a bed."

"What's going on? Jo appears around a corner in a robe.

"Nothin'. Go back to sleep, Baby. I'll tell ya in the mornin'."

"But-"

"Now, Joanna."

She grumbles and shuffles back to another room.

Then they wait. Ellen brings out coffee and they sit around just staring at each other for the next several hours. Dean's mind ping pongs around the last few days while he fingers the bottle in his jacket pocket. Holy water.. Cas had said demons needed a human. Was this stuff supposed to hurt them? Was that what his dad was out looking for right now? That guy on the swing… was he seriously one of them? He felt like he was waiting for someone to say just kidding, but they were sitting there waiting for news of whatever the hell his dad was doing. The knife feels bulky in another deep side pocket. Could his dad get hurt? What if that had been the last time he'd see him? And he'd said they'd found us. Who were they? Why were they-

Ellen's phone rings next to him. She nods quickly at him, so he turns and picks it up.

"Hello?"

"Dean?! Where ya'll been? I called the house a dozen times!" Bobby shouts into the phone.

"Dad said-"

"Look your dad's at Mercy Regional. They found my number in his wallet and called me. High tail it over here as soon as you can."

"Wait, weren't you with him?"

"No. The dang fool musta gone off on his own without telling me."

"But-"

"I gotta go. They're taking him in now. Tell your mom!" He yells into the phone, huffing like he's running and hangs up.

"What is it?" Mary says anxiously.

"Dad's at the hospital. They called Bobby- didn't you call and tell him to meet dad?"

She gasps and rushes to grab her keys once she gets to her feet. "Your father said he would before he left." She turns to Ellen. "Can you watch them for-"

"Go." She waves her off. "We'll come in the morning if he's gonna be there a while. Call when you can."

Even with the constant panic over his dad, something keeps bothering him. "I thought-"

"Dean, take care of your brother." She kisses him on the forehead and rushes out the door.

He curls up on the couch under a blanket Ellen covered him with but doesn't sleep. When morning comes, she gets everyone something to eat and gives an edited version of events to Jo, telling her their dad was injured so they might be staying there for a while. Nothing about why they came in the first place. Not that he knew much himself. Last night when he'd asked, Ellen would only say that it was something he needed to talk about with his folks and to try to get some rest.

Once they're all loaded into her car, they head to the formidable looking collection of buildings his dad is in. His mom had called early and given Ellen the room number so they navigate the maze of hallways until they find her.

She hugs both Sam and Dean and tells them their dad will be okay. He's stable but still.. she turns away and starts crying. Jo takes Sam in the corner of the waiting room to play with some transformer toys he'd brought and Bobby tells the rest. John had been stabbed several times, but miraculously no vital organs were hit. He was unconscious but the surgeon was hopeful he would wake up in the next few days. In the meantime, they had IVs sending pain medicine and fluids through his body, not counting the two blood transfusions.

Bobby came and patted his shoulder roughly, in a generic manly sign of support. Dean just looks numbly from him to his mom to Ellen.. like it doesn't quite make any sense. After a minute, Bobby awkwardly grabs him close and Dean makes his arms move to hug him back. "He'll be alright, Son. Your old man's one tough bastard."

After that, they wait all day sitting in uncomfortable hospital chairs but his dad doesn't move. They ate hamburgers in the cafeteria for lunch. Mary spends most of the time in his room but Dean switches with her twice. During his turns, he just sits next to him, watching the machines beep and the ping that meant his dad's heart was still going.

In the evening, they got Cuban sandwiches and waited some more. Sam was just about at his end after playing with all the toys and books they'd brought. Dean got up and said he'd be back in a few minutes.

He walks out into the hospital's dimly lit courtyard. Running fingers through his hair, he stares up at the open night sky with its millions of happy twinkling stars. Dean sits down heavily on a bench, elbows on his knees and holds his head in his hands.

"Cas…" He breathes out slowly. "I'm at Mercy Regional. It's a hospital and anyway.. My dad.. um.." He chokes on a small sob that came out of nowhere. For long minutes he doesn't know what else to say. While he's still looking for the next words, someone sits down next to him. He thinks it's probably his mom who found him but when a tentative arm curves around his back, its firm and muscled. Dean turns into him without looking up and buries into Cas' warm neck, inhaling woods and a faint sweetness.

Cas' other arm comes around to hold him tight with more confidence. He fists Cas' shirt and holds on until he can collect himself enough to wipe at his wet face. Eventually he hears, "What happened?"

Dean pulls back and sighs angrily, "I don't even fucking know. No one will talk to me!" He slumps forward, rubbing his forehead. Everything was all fucked up but feeling the warmth of Cas' leg pressed against his was the first thing that didn't make him hurt in days. "So I know we're not good right now but can you just like.. stay for a little while? I mean, if you can."

He hates how pitiful that sounds to his own ears but he wants it anyway. Enough to ask, even with the possibility of rejection to make it worse.

Cas covers the top of his hand down on the bench. After only a brief hesitation, Dean turns his hand over so they lace fingers.

He doesn't spend his time with Cas asking questions about demons like he probably should or even telling him about his father being a Hunter... instead Dean just holds his hand and enjoys the way his thumb rubs back and forth.

When Dean sees his mom walking towards the courtyard through the glass windows, he squeezes Cas' hand once.

"I know." Cas slowly releases him and stands. "If you need me again.."

"Thanks." Dean upturns his lips in what he hopes is a smile. Cas frowns but takes off before his mom opens the door.

* * *

Two days later and his dad had woken a few times but always groggy and unresponsive to attempts to get him to talk. Mary stays at the hospital by his side while Ellen brings the boys to visit every evening.

Mary's telling them about his progress report from the doctor when Bobby says, "Ya need to go home, get some rest. I'll stay with him tonight." After a moment of indecision, she allows, "It would be nice to sleep in my own bed with Sam and Dean back at home. Let me just say goodbye to John, in case he's awake."

"Of course, take your time." Bobby smiles and sits to watch the ballgame on the hospital tv while they wait.

After giving his mom a few minutes, Dean says he wants to go see if his dad's awake before he leaves. He'd yet to get more than a few moments of his dad conscious on his turns at being in the room with him. A nurse pushes the button that lets him into the patient corridors. After getting lost only for a moment, he finds his dad's room and waits by the door when he hears his mom talking softly. When she comes out, he'll-

"Just look at my poor hurt hubby." Her voice sounds a little weird and it makes him turn to peek through the crack just as Mary snatches up the call button pad from John's slow moving fingers. All he can see is the back of her blonde head as she leans forward. His dad's eyes are open wide and face shaking with strain.

"No, its okay, Honey." She pushes the red button that dispenses a dose of pain medicine on the pad and John's face slacks slightly after a few seconds. "You just relax and listen real good to Saint Mary of Winchester."

What the hell? Dean hardly breathes as he watches his mom pats his dad's cheek too hard.

"Don't you worry about a thing. I'm gonna take good care of the kiddies."

John moans once and tries to jerk his arm with the IV. Mary grabs it and keeps it at his side on the bed.

"Now now. Let the nice meds do their job."

His eyes bat heavily though it's obvious he's trying to fight it.

"I was thinking.. Sam would make a great playmate for Lilith. You know how she acts out with she's lonely."

His dad's arm lurches again but with less force this time.

"And Dean.. Mmm..."

He swallows from the door and swears for a moment his dad's eyes find his at the crack before he blinks long again. Mary slaps him across the face before leaning even closer.

"Still with me, Champ?"

John opens his eyes and makes one last surge forward towards his mom but she just laughs and rakes fingers through his hair. Lovingly.

"Alastair is practically chomping at the bit to have Dean on his table. You remember him, don't you? Oh wait, that was your Hunter buddy."

She abruptly slaps him once more so his face turns with the force but he barely flutters his eyes, sinking into the pillows. When she shakes her head mockingly, Dean gets a glimpse of her face for the first time. Her eyes. They flare bright for just a second. Impossible.. but they'd looked yellow? Had he fallen into a freaking nightmare?

"Enjoy your sleep, Johnny Boy."

She's getting up and his heart beats erratic. He's choking. What? What's going on? He walks away too fast, stumbling, not knowing what to do. What he saw. He just needs to get away from her. Away from that door and what he'd heard. Seen. He gets buzzed through the doors and sees Ellen, holding Sam's hand and runs towards her.

"Hey, is your mom-"

"Where's Bobby?"

"He said he had to run home and check for messages. He'll be right back."

"What?! He's not here?"

Dean turns and to his horror, sees his mom walking towards them from across the hall. No time. No time for anything. He barely understood what was going on but he knows one thing he had to do. Protect Sam.

"Um.. Can you keep Sam one more night?"

Ellen gives him a look. "Well sure. I'll ask-"

"No! She won't say so but she's um so tired from the last few days. Please just insist. It's for her own-"

He cuts himself off when Mary joins them.

"Hey! Ready to go?" She smiles and it looks just like his mom always does. He could almost believe he imagined the weird flash of yellow.

"Why don't you let me keep your little rugrat one more night? We love having him. Go ahead, sleep in and we'll meet back here tomorrow."

His mom's smile strains just a tad but only he would catch it.

"Oh Ellen, you've done so much already."

"Aw now none of that. I ain't takin' no for an answer. You need some rest. You gotta take care of yerself too, ya know."

She grins tightly. "Okay then. Thanks."

"Dean?" She turns to him and he swallows. "Uh, yeah." Now that Sam's taken care of the panic settles in his chest at the thought of leaving with.. whatever his mom was. He watches her kiss Sam on the head.

"I wanna go home too." Sam pouts, sticking out his lip like he's getting too old to do. "Um, look Sammy, go peacefully and I promise we'll play Mario Kart all day tomorrow, kay?

Sam yawns and gives in with a, "Kay." Forcing himself to smile, he hugs him tight. He waves to his little bro until he's out of sight.

As soon as they're buckled in and driving, Dean starts sneaking glances at his mother, trying to see her eyes again. Mary turns to him with raised eyebrows. "What is it, Honey?"

"Nothing." He quickly turns back.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you tell Ellen to take Sam?"

Dread plummets through his stomach and he turns back slowly.

"I didn't."

"Stop lying to me, you little shit."

He backs towards the door and grabs the handle. There's a click.

"Safety locks. What an age we live in, huh?"

"What… what are you?"

"What do you mean, Honey?"

"Stop it! What the hell is going on?"

"Oh careful with your words there, Baby. You really shouldn't go using Hell with so little respect."

Dean looks helplessly out the window to see they're almost to his neighborhood. She's taking him home.

"So where's that angel you got wrapped around your little finger? Or maybe finger isn't the right body part, huh?" She laughs like his mom never did.

"What do you know about Cas?"

"Cas? As in Castiel? Oh goody. The black-eyed idiots I had watching you didn't recognize him. He's just a fresh-faced newbie."

With the mention of him, Dean starts immediately chanting his name over and over again in his head.

"Ah young love."

Cas. Cas. Cas. Cas.

Mary cocks her head and squints at him. "No phone calls on a school night." The last thing he sees is a flash of yellow and his mother's balled fist before.. nothing.

* * *

Dean groans when he's dropped down to slump against the back of a chair. Blinking slowly, he tries to get his bearings as his hands are wound together with something. He shakes his head and focuses on his mother's smiling face.

"Howdy, Dean. Yep, still mommy. Well.. mommy-ish."

He tries to jump up but is immediately held down by a pressure on his shoulders. Confused, he takes a second to see he's sitting backwards on one of their kitchen chairs. He drops his head back. An upside-down face grins back at him. It's the man he'd only seen once before.. on a swing.

"I don't understand. What is this? What's going on?"

Flinching, his attention is brought down to his leg where a little girl is sitting with her legs folded beneath her and poking his ankle with his knife to make small dots of blood through his socks. At first, his mind doesn't make any connections about craziness of what is happening but then he recognizes her as the kid riding by on her bike that day. And this is the singing stalker guy his dad ran after. Holy Water. Does he still have it? Would it help his.. mom? Is that still his mom? He needed his dad to tell him what to do, dammit. He tries to ignore the small pain of his leg to face her.

"What'd you do to my mom?"

"Oh she's in here. You should really be worrying about number one right now though, Dean. Your daddy landed you in a world of hurt. And don't think because you got your bouncing baby bro outta the way that he's safe."

"Naughty boy." The young girl waggles a finger at him and gets to her feet. Handing the knife to creepy behind him, she brushes off her dress daintily. It's white today, sleeveless with a ribbon around the middle to make a huge bow in the back. Cute. Like she's dressed up for Easter.. except for all the crimson stains. In the hospital, his mother had said two names. Alastair was meant for him and Lilith..

"Sammy promised to be my friend."

"No! Leave him alone!"

She folds her arms and hmpfs in a gesture that should be adorable but the blood splattered on her hands and arms ruin the effect a little. "But I'm bored. My last friend isn't much fun anymore." She twirls in place to show her dress with its handprints at the bottom. They're stark red and shocking against the white. And small. "He got me allll dirty."

"You sick bitch! Don't you-"

Dean winces at a sharp bite of pain at the top of his shoulder. "Should you really be yelling right now, Dean? Your generation is so impatient." The man behind him, Alastair presumably, taunts and drags another shallow slice across his back to his other shoulder. "The yelling comes later."

Mary smirks. "Nice knife, by the way. A gift from Papa Winchester?"

Lilith plops down again, her skirt poofing around her. She dabs at the blood pooled by his shoe and draws on the wooden panels of the floor. Hearts and flowers and then eyes and mouths and large teeth.

He shivers in revulsion when the back of fingers stroke his cheek, then the hand turns so the edge of the blade takes same path. When he jerks his face away, he hears, "Such spirit. I can't wait to know you more intimately."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Raspy laughter comes from the man he refuses to look up and back at again. "To know what makes a person scream or howl.. break completely and lose the ability to speak.. is there anything more intimate?"

His mom scoffs. "Hmm, I don't know, Al. Our boy's been rollin' around with a genuine Servant of the Lord. And ain't that a little.. sacrilegious? Probably aren't earning a lot of points with the big guy for that one."

To hear the mocking chortles in the voice that soothed him after every scrape and read bedtime stories before he fell asleep.. was almost worse than the infrequent bites of the knife at his back.

Dean's grits his teeth through a deeper jab. "Shut up." He growls. "You don't know anything about it."

"Mama Mary is disgusted by you, did ya know that?"

"That's not true." He says with less confidence and for a moment doesn't feel the burning from over a dozen wounds.

"'Fraid so, Dean baby. Her little boy playing bottom bitch to-"

"Stop it! You're lying! You are nothing like my mother. You're.." He gulps down a scream when the knife cuts a long strip downward. Sweat drips from his face and blood makes his shirt stick agonizingly to his back where it hasn't been cut to ribbons. "You're a demon."

"Who said you were just a pretty face."

"I could make it prettier." Lilith licks her lips hungrily from the floor. It's awful and disturbing on a soft child's face. This had to be some bizarre nightmare.

"Why are you doing this to us? What do you want?"

"Oh well that one's easy. See your daddy had the bad luck to crash a pretty important party we were throwing. One with a VIP guest. Lemme tell ya, rituals for that type of shindig can't just be thrown together every millennia. Planets aligning, lunar cycles, the right saint's bone.. it's all a bitch to work out. And there we were all ready with our party hats on, cake lit and.." her voice turns hard now. "Two bumpkin hick hunters come and blow the surprise."

She paces in front of him, sneering at Dean when he cries out from a sudden deep twist of the tip of the knife at the back of his arm.

"That's not the sorta thing you can just say water under the bridge about.. Dean?"

It's getting harder to concentrate on all the words she's saying. They start to bleed together.. like he's bleeding…

He vaguely feels a sting against his cheek. A slap probably but it only makes him lift his head briefly. "Ya listenin', Buddy?" She tsks and cocks her head but his eyes keep closing. If she'd just let him rest his head against the back of the chair.. maybe..maybe then..maybe he'd wake up.. and..

"I don't think you're paying enough attention, Sonny. Here, Al. I think your aim is off. I bet his soft spot is a bit.." He sees her arm come back over his head with the knife before she suddenly flips it mid-air and plunges it into her own stomach, smile never faltering, "Higher."

Dean screams and thrashes in place, not even sure what he would do if he got free. The demon is doing it within his mom, but still he fights upwards against the stone grip, not feeling the cuts he'd stopped counting.

"Ohh," Lilith makes a noise like she just saw a neat trick.

"That got a reaction." Alastair chuckles low.

"Tickles. Yeah mommy felt that one." She pulls the knife out as Dean watches in horror and rubs the bloody flat of it over his cheeks to smear over his face.

"You fucking bastards!" He fights until he's too weak to buck up again and slumps against the chair, heaving.

The demon wearing his mother's face bends down and says from an inch away, "Honey, we're just getting to know each other." Her eyes flash and he closes his so he doesn't have to see her anymore.

For a few miserable minutes, Dean drifts with voices murmuring above his head. He'd been tugging on his wrists the whole time but they just felt rubbed raw. He couldn't see if he made any progress or not. Doesn't matter. This isn't real. None of this can be real. None..

The next second, he thinks he's dreaming because there a thunderous howling and when the pressure on his sore shoulders disappears, his head lolls back to see a pillar of black smoke moving above his head. When the thing in his mom grins and runs past him out of sight, Dean instantly gets a burst of energy and starts tugging hard on his wrists. After only a few seconds, they break apart and he scrambles inside his jacket for the bottle of Holy Water. No sooner do his fingers touch it and a small body barrels into him from the side, sending him to the floor. He tries to focus through the searing pain to get to his feet but Lilith pounces on him again before he can get up. She scratches wildly at his face, then his arms when he brings them up to cover his head and push back without any effect. Keeping one arm up, he searches the ground with his hand until he feels what he hopes is the bottle and brings it up to smash into her head without hesitation. She screams in rage and pain, twisting away even as he turns and scoots as far from her as he can get.

He gets to his knees, heaving. When an arm hooks under his elbow, he cocks back his fist but sees Cas' face only a second before he swings.

"Cas?"

"Move, Dean!"

He's hauled to his feet and half carried-half dragged to the stairs. Cas pushes him ahead of him so he stumbles up towards the second floor. He hears Cas grunt but when he pauses to look over his shoulder, he's told to keep going. He makes it to the third floor but when he turns back, the stairs from the second to the third floor are empty.

C'mon, C'mon, C'mon. He thinks over and over. Please. C'mon!

Cas slams into wall with his shoulder at the second floor landing and runs up the last stretch, three at a time.

"Go!"

Dean quickly walks backwards, not taking his eyes off him until he touches his doorknob and opens it. He waits and only crosses into it when Cas is almost in front of him. There are several shadows on the wall leading down the stairs.. many feet pounding up the way to them.

When Cas pushes him firmly inside and closes the door, he immediately turns and digs his fingers into one of many wounds on his torso and starts painting a symbol on the back of his door in blood. Squiggles, circles.. it makes no sense in his hazy brain. If he could just sleep a whi-

"Dean!"

Cas is in front of him, sitting back on his haunches looking worried. He's on the floor.. he must have slid down..

Cas is trying to talk over his mom from outside his door. Why.. that doesn't make sense.

"Dean. Honey. You know you have to leave the door open when you have a boy over."

"Dean! Please, we don't have long. Can you hear me?" Cas yells at him from an inch away. Why is he yelling? Everything hurts and its getting so.. freaking.. cold. Cas is warm. Maybe he'll come closer.. make it better..

"You're alone, aren't you, Castiel? Do the numbers, kid. Why don't you cut your losses and pick a new boy toy, huh?" There's a grating noise like something sharp being dragged along the other side of his door.

"Cas? I missed you, ya know." Dean mumbles with his eyes shut.

"I need to know if there's anyone else in the house. Sam?"

"No.. just.." He shakes his head to clear it some. "Just her." He gestures vaguely back at the scraping noises.

Cas pulls Dean to his feet and holds onto his wrist to keep him walking with him towards the window. The window. Where Cas comes from. And where he leaves. They're going to leave. They can't leave her. Not with those monsters.

Dean jerks his arm back and tries to make a coherent sentence. "No Cas! We can't.. my mom's here. We can't leave her."

"Castiellll.." His mom sing-songs. "Give 'em to me before I have to take him."

Cas has blood smeared all over his arms and front but he doesn't show a bit of weakness when he grabs Dean's arm again firmly.

"Cas, Please!" Dean continues struggling until Cas finally throws him over his shoulder and strides towards the window. The door splinters and he sees his mom's face one last time, twisted in rage with burning yellow eyes, then they're lifting up high in the air.

Over his lawn they fly with a handful of people staring up at them with black eyes.

* * *

**Author's Note: I know for some of you this might have gone in a darker direction than you were perhaps expecting. I hope you trust me to make you smile and pant again. Also, it looks like chapter updates are taking about a week now as they get longer. Usually towards the end of the week(Friday to Saturday-ish). Hope you're still with me, darlings. I love you all dearly.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: I appreciate you all so very much. I love reading your comments and hearing what you think. Thank you, as always, for following and reading. **

* * *

They fly for several minutes with Cas carrying him over his shoulder. Blood drips from his hanging fingertips to fall miles and miles down to the blurry ground. He already feels like he's going to throw up so he keeps his eyes shut and everything seems to be fading into the background. Dean only jerks back to the present when they suddenly drop several feet. After that, Cas rapidly descends, making abrupt falls and for a moment Dean absurdly thinks he's running out of pixie dust. He's not scared anymore that they're almost just falling now with only Cas trying to glide to slow them. If this is when he dies, at least his friend is with him. His angel.

Cas hits the ground hard, rolling just before impact so he cushions Dean's body. They skid a few feet, and Dean ends up on his side next to him with new scrapes down his arm and face. Groaning low, he almost gives in to the pull of sleep. It'd be so easy to just close his eyes and his body is pleading for it. But when he cracks an eye to find Cas, he's not moving. Dean forces himself to crawl the few feet over to him and lift his hand to cup his face. It's all he has energy for and even that makes him puff out air hard.

"Cas?" he rasps.

Nothing. Not even a twitch. There are bloody tears up and down his shirt and bare arms. Dean pulls up the black cloth to see the wounds on his abdomen better. With the aid of moonlight, he can tell there's more than a handful of long gashes, some like scratches other slices and one deep hole on his side. He's bleeding.. just like any human does but they're rimmed in black with angry red streaks that crawl along the skin surrounding them. Like some kind of infection.

Dean sucks in a breath and summons the energy to cock back his hand and slap him across the face.

"Cas!"

The angel jolts up and suddenly has a shining blade in his hand, while his other grips Dean's throat.

"It's me!" He coughs. "Cas!"

He releases him and drops back down instantly. "Sorry," he sighs and it sounds strained. Dean doesn't answer, just falls back too, half on Cas' arm. Exhausted. Done. Cas is okay. Now's a good time to sleep. Cas is warm beneath him. He mutters something unintelligible and turns his face into his shoulder, trying to not to touch his chest and accidentally hurt him worse.

"Dean."

"Hmm," he mutters.

"You're hurt. I am reasonably certain that if you fall asleep.." he winces as he shifts so Dean's head is fully on his shoulder and wraps his arm around him and that's even better.

"Dean. Please don't sleep. I.. I don't think I am able to heal you right now."

"Shh, Cas. Everything's gonna be okay," he says with his eyes shut, inhaling him and feeling warm for the first time in what seems like forever.

"Everything's.. okay.."

Dean thinks he whispers it again but it might not have made it to his mouth. He sinks into Cas like a pillow and just lets everything go.

Dean's woken by weak morning sun in his face. There's ice-crystals melting on the grass from the night before but oddly he's not cold. When he tries to push up, he realizes why when he feels the weight of soft feathers surrounding him. His whole body is stiff and whenever he moves, his back screams in protest as the skin pulls with movement. When he looks down, he watches Cas' chest rise rhythmically but very shallow. Cas said he didn't sleep..

Dean checks the wounds under his ripped bloody shirt. They're closed but still ringed with deep red. Most of the black is gone which has to be a good thing, right? When his chest expands suddenly, Dean looks up to see him blinking and frowning back at him.

"You.. alive?"

"Surprisingly." Cas props himself up on one arm with a pained grunt and pushes Dean's shoulder so he faces away. Poking at Dean's back until he sucks in through his teeth, Cas sighs and drops his hands.

"Well, at least you won't die."

"What'd you do?"

"I healed you as much as I was able, which was not very much. I lost consciousness before I was sure if it was enough."

"What did that to you?" He watches Cas inspect his own ugly gouges.

"Demon Blade. They're forged in Hell from the remains of broken souls. Demons use-"

"Demons. Cas! We have to go back." Dean grunts as he tries to get to a knee. "My mom.."

"Dean.I'm.. I am sorry."

"Don't say sorry. Say you'll take me back." He gets to his feet, ignoring the agony of his body and looks down at Cas, waiting. "C'mon, dammit."

Cas sits up fully but stays on the ground. "I can't take you anywhere right now. And I'm very sorry Dean, but I can't do anything for your mother either. The demon has most likely left her by now."

"But that's good! You can heal her! Hurry and- What the fuck is wrong with you? C'mon!"

"Dean." He stares up at him until the panic and denial start to war in his mind. "But she was talking. It, whatever, was talking.."

"The moment it vacated her body as a host.. she was gone before we left, Dean."

He sinks to his knees and his shoulders shake trying to wrap his head around a world with his mom broken and bleeding back at their house. When he feels a hand touch his shoulder, he knocks it away and grips what's left of Cas' bloody shirt and yells in his face. "Then what good are you?! A fucking angel and you can't fix her?" He pushes Cas away only to punch him a second later. It hurts his entire body but he just balls his fist again. Cas lets him do it again before grabbing him around the shoulders and holding him right against him. He fights and bucks and twists, trying to get free to hurt him more until finally he's too drained to jerk back anymore.

Dean silently sobs and brings his arms up to encircle Cas' waist as he gives into falling into his lap, losing his will all at once.

"You never got to try her pie." He gets out before his voice cracks. "And now you never will." It's a ridiculous thought that may have come from some sort of shock but all he can think in now is small things that will change. Like how she won't be there to sing in the mornings or make him soup when he's sick or go with Sam to get his cast off at the doctor's soon or a million other things that he'd always taken for granted.

Cas strokes his hair, high above his tore up back and lets him babble and cry until he feels numb. He's not sure what parts are in his head and what was out loud but now he's quiet and thinking about the ugly twisted things that did this to him. To his family.

"When you're okay enough, heal yourself so we can get back. Not me."

Cas hadn't answered the whole of the time he was losing it but now his hand stills and he says, "I should be able to do both soon."

"No. I want the scars."

Cas is silent at that but goes back to running fingers softly through his hair. With his head in his lap, Dean stares out at the trees feeling detached from a world with vibrant green leaves that tremble in the sunlight.

"You coulda died too. Because of me… You should have left me there." He says, voice sounding hollow.

"They would have killed you. Eventually."

"It doesn't matter now," Dean mutters with weariness.

"It matters to me."

A few hours later, Cas takes him to the edge of his woods and makes him stay out of sight while he checks the house. When he returns he says, "They're gone. A man and your father are in your house. Neither of them are demons. The one that was in your mother is gone."

For just a second, Dean gets a pathetic surge of hope but when he sees Cas' grim expression he looks back towards the house. "She's really gone then." He can't say dead yet. He walks past Cas without another word and crosses into his backyard. It looks the same with Sammy's sandbox, the swingset, their grill.. only last night there'd been a group of possessed humans standing right here.

When he gets to backdoor, it's open. He walks through to hear the cock of a shotgun. Dean slowly turns to his left to see Bobby. "Dean?"

"Yeah." He acknowledges, softly.

"Dean!" His dad walks slowly towards him, pale and ashen. He's wearing jeans under a hospital gown and unlaced boots. He touches his bloody face where the demon had rubbed the knife on him after stabbing itself. His mom.

"It's not mine. It's… hers."

For a second, John's face gets hard and he flings an open flask at him. Dean flinches but its just water. Then his dad grabs him up in his arms, even though he makes a pained noise doing it. "I thought they took you."

Past his dad's shoulder, he can see the outline of a body under a sheet. John holds him for a long time, his body shaking with sobs. This may be the first time he's ever seen his dad cry. He would cry too but he doesn't have any tears left. Now it's like there's just an awful void inside him. He hisses when his dad grips too close to one of the slices on his back. John turns him away to see all the bloody slashes on his shirt. "What happened?!"

"I'm alright."

"How'd you-"

Bobby interrupts his dad with, "Will you sit down at least before you fall on your ass? We need to get you back to the hospital."

"No! Not going back there." His dad says, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder to steady him as they walk towards the couch. "You can patch me up." He swipes a half-full bottle of whiskey off the counter on the way and takes a swig of it. "Then we're going after them."

"Yeah, because changing bandages in the army is just like patching someone up after major surgery. " They maneuver his dad down slowly with cushions to prop him up. When Bobby lifts up the hospital gown to look at the medical tape and gauze, John angrily pulls it over his head and throws it across the room. "Check Dean."

"You need to rest. And stop drinkin' on that!" he grumbles, grabbing the bottle out of his hand and gulping down a few swallows himself. Bobby sits behind Dean on the couch and lifts up his shirt to examine his cuts.

"Tell me, Son."

Dean wets his lips. "His name was Alastair," he says watching his dad clench his jaw down hard. "The one I saw before. He.. did my back. They called the little girl Lilith. There was something in mom.. it had yellow eyes."

Closing his eyes, John lays his head against the back of the couch. Bobby works in silence, cutting strips of medical tape and setting out white squares of gauze on his knee.

"I got away, ran into the woods." Dean chews his lip, not knowing how else to sum up the awful panic and violence of last night. Even now it's a jumble of cries and blood, ugly laughter and adrenaline. When his dad keeps his eyes shut and doesn't answer, Dean thinks he fell asleep or maybe passed out. His attention strays to the sheet again. There's a red stain in the middle of it. He can't pull his gaze away from it, even as his dad starts talking. "I wish to God I had told Bill Harvelle to go to Hell."

Bobby sighs loudly from behind Dean, dapping something cold over skin. "Don't do this."

"They were demons. You understand that, Dean? Demons. I-" He chokes on a sob and has to stop. "I was a Hunter.. before I met your mother. My father was too. Showed me about all the ugly shit that's hiding just outta sight. Bill and me, we'd work together sometimes. But I gave it all up for her." Tears run down his cheek and he hasn't once turned to the floor where her body.. where she was. Where Dean can't look away from.

He holds his hand out towards Bobby.

"No."

"Give me the Goddamn bottle, Bobby. Now."

Bobby reaches around Dean and shoves it at his dad. "Here! But don't come cryin' to me when yer liver shuts down!" After placing the last piece of tape on his back, Bobby gets up and stomps outside the house without another word.

Taking several more gulps, his dad sniffs and says, "Right after Sam was born, Bill comes to me for one last job. One. Last. Time." He slurs a little now when he punctuates each word. "Something big was going down and… God forgive me, I went. Wanted to. I actually missed it."

The bottle tips up again and his dad sinks a little deeper into the cushions. "She was so beautiful. White dress with her hair up.. she looked like an angel." He smiles through his tears, "They got the flowers wrong and she was so mad.."

The next half hour is like that. Random half-thoughts from his dad, trapped between happy memories and the nightmare of a night that lead to today. Through slurred curses, he mumbles about pentagrams on the floor in blood, an old church, Bill screaming and one name over and over. Azazel. He has a moment of clarity before passing out. The last thing he does is grip Dean by his collar so he drags his eyes away from his mother's body. "Dean. I shoulda told you before. I shoulda been preparing you. You gotta understand.. I didn't want this life for you. I.." He shakes his head and blinks feverish, glassy eyes, "but they took that away. Now-now I gotta teach you to fight back! To hunt them! To want these sons-a-bitches as much as I do! We've gotta take 'em out, Dean!"

"Okay. It's alright, Dad." He pats the hand that's fisted in his shirt and pushes him back so he slumps against the pillows, wincing.

"It's time to grow up, Son." He whispers with his eyes shut before his mouth slackens. Dean covers him with a blanket. Bobby comes up behind him. "I'll watch over him. Go get some sleep if you can. We'll.." He looks at the sheet covering his mom. "We'll handle everything when he wakes up."

Dean feels like he's aged a decade as climbs up the stairs. He passes the bloody smear on the second landing where Cas had slammed against the wall, pushes open his broken door with the long scratches from a knife, walks over a huge pool of blood where he had sat exhausted and.. dying. There's a trail of bloody footprints tracked through one deep red puddle all the way to the window. He sits on the edge of his bed for what seems like hours but is probably not very long. When he prays.. it's just his name, once.

He's only a few minutes, as if he was waiting. Cas sits beside him so his leg touches his and takes his hand so their fingers lace. Dean not only lets him, but squeezes him so it almost hurts.

Staring at the window, he says, "We're leaving. My dad's pretty out of it.. but I got that much."

Castiel is quiet, but squeezes back now.

"I didn't say so before.. but thanks."

"Don't thank me. I failed you. Your mother still-"

"Yeah, we're not gonna talk about her. I just.. that wasn't your fault."

"It is. Why else would demons come after you? Your family? I believed I had been so careful on my trips to you."

"It wasn't you. There's this whole fucked up story with my dad." He waits a minute, trying to think of what else to say. "He needs me. We're going after them, Cas."

"You're going to become a Hunter. Like your father before you."

Dean turns to him surprised and their eyes meet for the first time. Cas' blue ones are steady and his face is at its most stoic.. like in the early days of his first visits.

"Yep. Family Business." He laughs bitterly up at the ceiling.

"If you ever need me.."

"Yeah…" Dean sighs. "I'll miss you."

Cas smiles but it's gone before he's even sure he saw it.

"Maybe I'll see you again. Someday."

"Perhaps." Cas says, frowning at the ground and releases his hand.

"I'm not gonna say goodbye. Just.. just leave like you used to, kay?"

The angel thinks for a second then nods.

Dean clears his throat and only sniffs once. "So Cas, you gonna come back again?"

"If you would like, Dean."

Dean tries to smile but he doesn't quite pull it off. When Castiel turns away, Dean grabs his shoulders. When he lets go.. he'll be gone. Cas looks back after pausing only a moment and cups Dean's face. The kiss is chaste. Sweet and a little damp from his tears but it'll be the one Dean remembers most

"Next time, then."

* * *

**Author's Note:****A moment of silence for poor Mary Winchester. Promise next chapter will be less gloom and doom. Also there's going to be a time jump. I'll try not to make you wait too long for it, darlings.**


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